Kiara Pride-Lander: Book 2
by Kimberly Joan Amethyst
Summary: This is the second book in Kiara's life. New characters and some more parodies from movies and books to come. DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING, apart from my own characters, of course. Please R&R and enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Kiara Pride-Lander**

 **And the Chamber of Mysteries**

 **By K.J.A**

 **Hey guys. K.J.A. here again with the second book in the Kiara Pride-Lander series. So without further ado, let's get on with it, shall we?**

0000

 **Chapter 1**

 **Worst. Birthday. Ever!**

 **KIARA**

Hello again, fellow reader. It is I, Kiara Pride-Lander, here to tell you all about the events of my second year. Now I must tell you that this year's tale is far darker than the last, because you see in this year a dark shadow returned to the school and threatened to shut it down and shun the school in darkness by an evil witch's hand forevermore. But more on that later. Now, where to begin? Where to begin? Ah, I know … Let me start with the summer holidays, on my twelfth birthday and tell you what happened on that mad day. Oh, and just so you know, in this book and some of the others later, the points of view will change from mine to my relatives and friends. You will know when that happens. On with the story.

This birthday started out just as any other did; my grandmothers were cooking my breakfast; I took a shower, made my bed, opened my curtains, but there was one difference this year … there was no dress on my bed. I had to know what was going on because I always had a birthday party on my birthday. So I got dressed, brushed my hair and went downstairs.

There was one difference in my room this year – well, unless you count that Crooks was already downstairs tucking into his breakfast and not jumping through my bedroom window as per usual – this summer a work desk had been added to my large room. But apart from that, my wardrobe, bed, drawers for clothes, boxes with my movies and games in and my bedside cabinet was all the same. Even the paintings on the walls were still the same (I didn't bother drawing anything new because there was no room left on the walls for me to paint any more; so my grandmothers bought me a sketch pad before my birthday with some new paints to work with when I wasn't doing my homework). The desk was in the middle of my room. It was made of mahogany and it looked beautiful. Harold's cage was on there also, and if I remember rightly, he was out hunting that morning.

When I opened the door to the kitchen, I saw my grandmothers making the breakfast and placing presents in the lounge. When my grandmothers spotted me, they turned round and yelled, "Happy birthday, Kiara!" Then we hugged.

I pointed to the presents and asked them, "Why are my presents in the lounge? Why are you not giving them to me at my birthday party like you always do?"

My grandmothers paused in what they were doing and looked at each other. Then Grandmother Sarabi said, "We think you're a bit old to have a birthday party, Kiara."

"Oh, surely there must be more to it than that," I said to them. "Come on, what's really going on here? I'm not stupid, you know. There was no dress on my bed, either, and you always want to make my birthday as special as possible."

I looked at them both, imploring them with just my eyes to tell me why they really weren't throwing me a birthday party. Then Grandmother Sarafina sighed and said, "We should have told you a few weeks back –"

"Told me what?"

"That Frank, Mavuto and Carol are coming over here tonight for a business meeting with some business person," Grandmother Sirabi said angrily.

"WHAT?" I said.

"I know, Kiara, but it's been arranged already. They're coming here and we have to put the pictures of us in the attic so they don't get suspicious. Mavuto is bringing photos of her family to put on the walls in a few minutes and, well, tonight it gets worse for us, Kiara …"

"How so, Grandmother Sarabi?"

"Because we have to stay in your room and make no noise."

"Oh, _what_?" I said, exasperated.

"I know it's unfair, Kiara, but that's what she said. Now, Sarafina will be staying down here tonight during the interview, because Ursula said that this business person wants to meet her mother; so, if there're any problems, she will come upstairs to see what's wrong. Now then, Mavuto and Carol will be here in twenty minutes, so why don't we have some breakfast and open those presents up before they get here, hmm?"

"OK," I sighed, and me and my two grandmothers sat down at the table and began to eat.

For my birthday, I got some new DVDs, CDs and some other good stuff and some money. When I had opened all my gifts, I took them to my room and stuffed them all in my wardrobe and the money in my purse – Muggle money, of course. I then went downstairs and heard the doorbell go. Grandmother Sarafina opened the door and Aunt Mavuto and Carol came in. they were discussing the important meeting that was taking place that night.

"… and we need some good discussion topics, Carol. Remind me to remind your father about that." they both stopped and looked at me when they saw me and they glared at me and I at them. They were both carrying boxes of photos in their arms.

"Why are you having this meeting here?" I asked.

"Well, your home is nicer and cleaner than ours," said Aunt Mavuto.

"So, you're invading our home because it's better?" I said.

"Well, that's certainly one way of looking at it," said Carol. "The other way is that we're punishing you for what you did to me on my birthday last year."

"WHAT?!" me, Grandmother Sarabi and Grandmother Sarafina said simultaneously.

"I know you think it's cruel, but we like it here," said Carol smugly.

"No, you don't," I said.

They shrugged and nodded at this and I sighed a deep, annoyed sigh. I couldn't believe that my relatives were punishing me for something I did that I couldn't control a year ago! But there was nothing I could have done to stop it, for my aunt was – and is – a woman who is partial to getting her own way. Anyway, whilst I was sat on the sofa sulking, my grandmothers were removing the photos of us and putting them in the attic, Aunt Mavuto and Carol were putting the photos of themselves on the mantelpiece. After they had finished this, Aunt Ursula turned to my grandmothers.

"Right, we'll be back tonight five minutes before seven, so mother, wear your best frock." Grandmother Sarafina nodded her head as Aunt Mavuto continued: "And while we're gone, make sure you don't mess anything up." She looked at me and Grandmother Sirabi when she said this, and we glared at her. Then she and Carol left and me and my grandmothers were left alone again.

"Right, well dinner tonight will have to be at six, so we can be ready to go up to your room, Kiara," Grandmother Sarabi said to me. "Sara, I presume Frank and Mavuto are cooking something at home and bringing the produce over here?"

"Yes they are, Sarabi, and I am eating with them."

"All right, then. So we know what's going on tonight."

"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?" I asked my grandmothers. "I mean, usually on a normal birthday of mine, I would watch some DVDs, but now I can't!"

"Oh, come on, Kiara –"

"No, Sarafina, she's right," said Grandmother Sarabi. "I know, why don't you and Timmy take a ride together, eh? Let's see if that will cheer you up."

"OK," I sighed. I got up off the sofa and was just about to go into the back yard, when Grandmother Sarabi held me back.

"Kiara dear?"

"Yes, Grandmother Sarabi?"

"Have you heard from any of your friends yet?"

I felt my heart clench a little at this because I didn't want to talk about this subject at that moment. I went back into the lounge and looked at my grandmothers.

"No," I sighed.

"Not a word?" Grandmother Sarabi asked, surprised.

"Not a word," I repeated. "It's odd, because I've been expecting to hear something from them, in a letter or on the phone, but I've heard nothing. And Chrissie was going to ask me round to her home this summer to stay, as well."

"Well, I'm sure there will be a reasonable explanation for that," Grandmother Sarabi said soothingly. "And don't worry, Kiara, you are allowed to go to your friends for the rest of the summer. We will not keep you locked up in here, you can be sure of that. Now, go and enjoy a ride on Timmy. And Kiara," Grandmother Sarabi called me back as I went to the kitchen again, "be sure to be back by six, for I'll have dinner on the table by that time."

"Don't worry, Grandmother Sarabi, I will," I said, and then I rushed upstairs to my room, grabbed my phone which was in my bedside table, dashed back downstairs, picked up a lunchbox, made myself a couple of sandwiches, some still drinks, grabbed a couple of snacks from the fridge, went out to the stables, saddled Timmy up and rode out into the vast hills and valleys.

Because I was feeling down that day, I let Timmy ride wherever he wanted to go and I didn't bother to take my bow and arrows with me as I was feeling down that day. As we rode, I pulled out my mobile 'phone and tried to call Chrissie again, but I couldn't get through. I was really disappointed. The long silence from Chris, Sian and Chrissie started to make me think that maybe I didn't have any friends at Dragon Mort at all.

We reached the clearing where the dark vine-leaves covered the entrance to it. I left Timmy a bag of apples and a couple of carrots I had bought a couple of days before that particular ride, and went in with the lunchbox of snacks and the drinks I had made for myself.

The clearing looked just the same as it did last year; small birds and butterflies darting in and out of the trees and chasing each other around it; the long, thin blades of grass and the branches of the trees bowed and danced in the wind and the stream coming down from the waterfall in the middle of that beautiful, sunlit clearing. My hair sparkled in the sun as I sat by the stream, opening the lunchbox and eating the sandwiches, thinking about the past and other stuff.

For those of you who don't remember, I looked a lot like my mother: her long, golden, waist-length hair, which curled slightly towards the bottom, always seemed to sparkle in the sun; her pale, peach skin and her wide, orange-shaped eyes. I had inherited my father's fringes that shaped my face and looked like claws, which came down just below my shoulders and I could pin them back; his mouth, slightly golden-tinge to his skin and growth spurt I also inherited from him. My dark amber eye colour I inherited from my grandfather Mufasa. But what made me different from the rest of my family was the thin, flame-shaped scar in the middle of my forehead.

At just ten months old, I had somehow survived a curse from the greatest dark sorceress of all time, Lady Zira, whose name witches and wizards feared to speak back then. My parents had almost died by Zira's attacks on them, but I had made her go into exile by my flaming scar, and somehow – nobody understood why – Zira's powers had been destroyed the instant she had failed to kill me.

So I had been brought up by my parents' mothers. I had spent ten years with them, knowing why I kept making strange things happen without meaning to, knowing that I would be someday going to a school called Dragon Mort, but not knowing more than that. I also didn't know why I didn't see my parents and why my grandmothers didn't speak their names to me – next year folks, you will know, I assure you.

And then, exactly a year ago – remember, I was twelve in my second year – Dragon Mort had written to me, and the whole story had come out. I had taken my place at a wizard school, where me and my scar were famous … but now the school year was over, and I was back with my grandmothers who loved me dearly, and my relatives the Smiths, who treated me as though they thought I was a dog that had rolled in something smelly.

As I started on my snacks, I thought about today. Even though the day was beautiful, to me it felt as though black clouds were covering the sky. I gazed miserably at the bush opposite me. More than anything else at Dragon Mort, more even than playing Quidditch, I missed my best friends, Chris Rickers and Sian and Chrissie Dawson. As I have already stated in this chapter, neither of them had written to me all summer, even though Chrissie said she would invite me to come and stay.

I took out my 'phone and tried to call Sian this time, but again, no answer. I stuffed the 'phone angrily into my pocket and sighed. I would have given anything at that moment to have received a message from Dragon Mort. From any witch or wizard in fact. I would almost be glad to have seen the sight of my arch-enemy, Dani Malty, just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream …

Not that the whole of my first year at Dragon Mort had been fun. At the very end of the last term, I had come face to face with none other than Lady Zira herself. Zira might then have been a ruin of her former self, but she was still terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power. I had slipped through Zira's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even back then, weeks later after that, I was waking up in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Zira was now, remembering her livid face, her wide, mad eyes …

I suddenly sat bolt upright on the grass. I had been staring absent-mindedly into the bush – _and the bush was staring back_. Two enormous brown eyes had appeared among the leaves.

I jumped to my feet as a branch snapped somewhere around me. I looked back at the bush and the eyes blinked and vanished. I calmed down and sat in the grass again. When my breath had evened out, I stood up, collected some water from the stream in the first bottle – the second one still had juice in – and walked out of the clearing. Timmy stood up when he saw me. I let him drink some water and we rode on, adventuring farther and farther into the hills.

I saw many woodland creatures as we went on. Me and Timmy settled down for a bit with some of them – me and Timmy had spent time with the rabbits and other creatures to know them well enough and for them to know us – until I looked at my 'phone and saw that it was twenty-five minutes past five in the afternoon. I couldn't believe how late it was! I had to get back, for my grandmothers were expecting me back for dinner; so I leapt on Timmy's back, called "I'll be back soon!" to the woodland creatures, and we ran like the wind back home.

When we got back to the stables at the cottage, I unsaddled Timmy and fed him some oats and got him some water. Then I drank some juice and walked to the cottage. When I walked in, Grandmother Sarabi was taking care of dinner and didn't pay any attention to me, so I looked at the clock and saw that it was ten minutes to six, so I cleaned my lunchbox and stuffed it back into the cupboard under the sink. Then I cleaned my water bottles and placed them next to the lunchbox in the same cupboard. When I had done all this, dinner was ready, so me and Grandmother Sirabi sat down at the table and ate.

We did the dishes quickly and then went to the lounge after we had finished eating dinner. Grandmother Sarafina was wearing an elegant lavender cocktail dress. It was twenty-five minutes to seven by the time we had finished clearing up. The house was sparkling clean. We watched television for twenty minutes, until we heard a car coming. Grandmother Sarafina went to the window and looked out.

"Here they come," she said to us.

And came they did. Aunt Mavuto was wearing a flattering metallic silver evening gown, Uncle Frank was in his best black suit and Carol was wearing a shocking pink dress. The three of them were carrying food and Aunt Mavuto was looking extremely nervous.

"Right then, Mother," she said to Grandmother Sarafina, "we've got the food. Now all we have to do is unwrap it, get rid of the foil and put the cake on a cake plate. So let's get on with it!"

Grandmother Sarabi and I stood back so that Grandmother Sarafina, Aunt Mavuto, Uncle Frank and Carol could unload all the food. And just as they had finished doing this, we could hear a car coming up the front lawn. Aunt Ursula turned to Grandmother Sarabi and I.

"Upstairs!" she said. "Hurry!"

Grandmother Sarabi grabbed my hand and we ran up the stairs together. We had just reached the top of the stairs when someone knocked at the door and my aunt's furious face appeared at the bottom of the stairs, just.

"Remember, you two – one sound out of either of you …"

Grandmother Sarabi glared at her and then we crossed the hall to my room on tiptoe, slipped inside, closed the door and we were going to collapse on my bed.

The trouble was, there was already someone jumping on it.

0000

 **All right, so this was the first chapter. More is still to come. R &R please. Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **Dokey's Warning**

 **KIARA**

A creature about three foot tall who was very thin with skin drooping off her arms, legs and cheeks and scratches and scars all over the parts of me that were visible to me was jumping up and down on my bed. She – I could tell she was a woman by the quality of hair on her head – had bat-like ears, a long, pencil-thin nose and large, brown eyes were the features on her thin, round head and when I looked at them, I knew straight away that this was the creature that I had seen looking at me in the clearing earlier that day. She had long hands and feet with long, pointed fingers and toes and covering her body seemed to be two ragged, dirty towels which covered each other like a dress and each towel was meeting at the waist so that no one could see the parts of her body that no one really wants to see. Her hair was matted and dirty and was partly in clumps, and the colour of her hair matched her skin. I could only tell the difference between hair and skin because her hair was gleaming faintly; it looked as though her hair was attached to her skin.

She jumped and turned and stopped when she saw me. She looked at my grandmother, her eyes popping and her hands over her mouth. Clearly she thought she must have wanted to see me here alone. I read this quickly on her face as I heard my aunt's voice downstairs saying, "Mrs Goldstein, how pleasant it is to see you …"

Grandmother Sarabi shut the door quietly as I said quickly, "Don't panic, please! This is my Grandmother Sarabi. She won't hurt you, I swear it."

The creature looked quickly at my grandmother who nodded and she breathed a sigh of relief and said in a slightly high pitched voice, "I am glad to hear that, miss, for Dokey was afraid that she was an impostor."

Even though I heard all this, the first thing that came out of my mouth was, _"Dokey?"_ I asked in a puzzled voice.

Dokey coughed and then said, "Ah, yes miss. I am Dokey, miss. Dokey the house-elf."

I sat down on the bed and my grandmother sat down on the chair near the chest of drawers near the bed and then I looked at her as she jumped off and said, "Er, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but this isn't the best time for me to be having a house-elf in my bedroom."

"Oh, of course, miss. Dokey understands," said Dokey, rather uncertainly in a much calmer tone of voice. "It's just … it is _difficult_ , miss. Dokey wonders where to begin …"

"Well then, why don't you sit down for starters," I said, pointing to the bed on which she was standing on and smiling gently at her. As I said this, Harold came swooping into my room holding a dead mouse in his beak, and went to eat it in his cage. He looked at Dokey suspiciously and then looked at me smiling at her gently and quietly ate his mouse.

I was expecting Dokey to take this news lightly; however, to my horror, the elf burst into tears which were very loud.

" _S-Sit down!"_ she wailed. _"Never ... never ever …"_

Grandmother Sarabi and I both heard the voices downstairs falter.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

"Offend Dokey!" choked the elf. "Dokey has never been asked to sit down by a witch – like an _equal_ – "

I was trying to say "Shh!" and was trying to look comforting at the same time, ushered Dokey back onto the bed where she sat hiccoughing, looking like a large and very ugly doll. At last she managed to control herself and sat with her great eyes focussed on me with an expression of watery admiration.

"You can't have met many decent witches, then?" I said, trying to cheer her up.

Dokey shook her head. Then, without warning, she leapt up and started banging her head furiously against the window, shouting, _"Bad Dokey! Bad Dokey!"_

"Don't – what are you doing?" I hissed, springing up along with my Grandmother Sarabi and together we both pulled Dokey back onto the bed. Harold looked at Dokey with alarm.

My grandmother and I sat back down in our seats as Dokey, who had gone slightly cross-eyed, said, "Dokey had to punish herself, miss. Dokey almost spoke ill of her family, miss …"

"Your family?"

"Why, of course, Kiara," Grandmother Sarabi interrupted unexpectedly. "A house-elf is to serve one wizard family forever."

"Do they know you're here?" I asked Dokey curiously.

Dokey shuddered.

"Oh no, miss, no. Dokey will have to punish herself most grievously for coming to see you, Miss. Dokey will have to shut her ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, miss –"

"But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?"

"Dokey doubts it, miss. Dokey is always having to punish herself for something, miss. They lets Dokey get on with it, miss. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments …"

"Why don't you leave?" I asked. "Escape?"

"A house-elf must be set free, miss. And the family will never set Dokey free … Dokey will serve the family until she dies, miss …"

Grandmother Sarabi and I looked at Dokey, both of us full of concern for the poor house-elf, which we could tell when we looked at each other for a brief moment when Dokey's head was turned away.

"And I thought I was hard-done-by staying here for another four weeks," I said. "This makes the Smiths sound almost human. Can't anyone help you? Can't I?"

Almost at once, I wished I hadn't spoken for Dokey dissolved again into wails of gratitude.

"Please," I whispered frantically "please be quiet. If the Smiths hear anything, if they know you're here …"

"Kiara Pride-Lander asks if she can help Dokey … Dokey has heard of your greatness, miss, but of your goodness, Dokey never knew …"

I was feeling distinctly hot in the face by now, so I tried to wave what she said off by saying, "Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I'm not even top of my year at Dragon Mort, that's Sian, she's …"

But I stopped quickly, because thinking about Sian was painful.

"Kiara Pride-Lander is humble and modest," said Dokey reverently, her orb-like eyes aglow. "Kiara Pride-Lander speaks not of her triumph over She Who Must Not Be Named."

"Zira?" I said, whilst out of the corner of my eye, Grandmother Sarabi's head perked up.

Dokey covered her hands over her ears and moaned, "Ah, speak not the name, Miss! Speak not the name!"

"Sorry," I said quickly. "I know lots of people don't like it – my friends Chris and Chrissie …"

I stopped again. Thinking about Chris and Chrissie was painful, too.

Dokey leaned towards me, her eyes as wide as headlamps.

"Dokey heard tell," she said hoarsely, "that Kiara Pride-Lander met the Scarlet Lady for a second time, just weeks ago … and Kiara Pride-Lander escaped _yet again_."

I nodded and Dokey's eyes suddenly shone with tears.

"Ah, miss," she gasped, dabbing her eyes with a corner of the dirty towel she was wearing over her waist. "Kiara Pride-Lander is valiant and bold! She has braved so many dangers already! But Dokey has come to protect Kiara Pride-Lander, to warn her, even if she _does_ have to stick her head in the oven door later for coming to see you … _Kiara Pride-Lander must not go back to Dragon Mort Magical Academy this year_."

There was a silence broken only by the chink of knives and forks downstairs and the distant laughter of Aunt Mavuto.

" _W-what?"_ I stammered. "But I've got to go back – term starts on September the first. It's all that's keeping me going. You don't know what it's like here. I don't _belong_ here in the Muggle world with the Smiths. I belong in your world – at Dragon Mort."

"Indeed she does!" said Grandmother Sarabi, glaring at Dokey. "And if she wants to go back, you are not going to stop her!"

"No, no, no," squeaked Dokey, shaking her head so hard that her ears flapped. "Kiara Pride-Lander must stay where she is. She is too great and too good to lose. If Kiara Pride-Lander goes back to Dragon Mort, she will be in mortal danger."

"Why?" said Grandmother Sarabi and I in simultaneous surprise.

"There is a plot, Kiara Pride-Lander. A plot to make terrible things happen at Dragon Mort Magical Academy this year," whispered Dokey, suddenly trembling all over. "Dokey has known it for months, miss. Kiara Pride-Lander must not put herself in danger. She is too important, miss."

"What terrible things?" I said at once. "Who's plotting them?"

Dokey made a funny choking noise and then started to bang her head madly against my window.

"All right!" I cried, grabbing the elf's arms to stop her. "You can't say, I understand. But why are you telling me?" a sudden, unpleasant thought struck me. "Hang on – this hasn't got something to do with Zi – sorry – with She-You-Know, has it? You could just shake or nod your head," I added hastily, as Dokey's head tilted worryingly close to the wall again.

Slowly, Dokey shook her head.

"Not – not _She Who Must Not Be Named_ , miss."

"She hasn't got a sister, has she?"

"No, miss," said Dokey, her eyes wider than ever.

"Well, I can't think of who else would have a chance of making terrible things happen at Dragon Mort," I said. "I mean, there's Crighton, for one thing – you know who Crighton is, don't you?"

Dokey bowed her head.

"Susan Crighton is the best headmistress Dragon Mort has ever had. Dokey has heard of it, miss. Dokey has heard Crighton's powers rival those of She Who Must Not Be Named at the height of her strength. But miss," Dokey's voice dropped to an urgent whisper, "there are powers Crighton doesn't … powers no decent witch …"

And before I could stop her, Dokey bounced off the bed, seized my desk lamp and started beating herself around the head with ear-splitting shrieks.

A sudden silence fell downstairs. I looked at Grandmother Sarabi – both of us were standing up at this point – with a look of desperation on my face, wanting to stop Dokey from what she was doing. Two seconds later I heard Aunt Mavuto's voice say, "Mother, I think that Carol left her television on again. Will you go and turn it off for me?"

"Quick! In the wardrobe!" I hissed as me and Grandmother Sarabi seized an arm of Dokey each and stuffed her in the wardrobe and we each moved back to our original seats as the door opened a crack and Grandmother Sarafina's head poked round the door.

"Sarabi, what is going on in here?" said Grandmother Sarafina, looking nervously about the room. "There are some weird noises coming from this room and Mavuto is getting suspicious. After all, you know how she feels about the girl."

"Sorry, Sarafina, we'll keep the noise down," said Grandmother Sarabi.

"Well, make sure you do, otherwise Mavuto will make Kiara wish that she had never been born." And giving me a slight smile, Grandmother Sarafina's head disappeared, the door closed and her light footsteps headed back downstairs.

I waited until her footsteps had disappeared before I got off the bed and opened the wardrobe.

"See what it's like with my aunt?" I said. "See why I've got to go back to Dragon Mort? It's the only place I've got friends."

"Friends who don't even _write_ to Kiara Pride-Lander?" said Dokey slyly.

"I expect they've just been – hang on," I said, frowning, looking quickly at Grandmother Sarabi whose head had perked up before looking back at Dokey. "How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?"

"Yes, how do _you_ know that?" said Grandmother Sarabi curiously.

Dokey shuffled her feet.

"Kiara Pride-Lander mustn't be angry with Dokey – Dokey did it for the best …"

" _Have you been stopping my letters?"_

"Dokey has them here, miss," said the elf, stepping numbly out of my reach, she pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the top towel she was wearing. I could make out Sian and Chris' neat writing, Chrissie's untidy scrawl and even a scribble that looked as though it was from the Dragon Mort gamekeeper, Mina.

Dokey blinked anxiously up at me.

"Kiara Pride-Lander mustn't be angry … Dokey hoped … if Kiara Pride-Lander thought that her friends had forgotten her … Kiara Pride-Lander might not want to go back to school, miss …"

But I didn't listen to a word she just said. I made a lunge at the letters, but Dokey jumped out of reach.

"Kiara Pride-Lander will have them, ma'am, if she gives Dokey her word that she will not go back to Dragon Mort. Ah, ma'am, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back, miss!"

"No!" I said angrily. "Give me my friends' letters!"

"Then Kiara Pride-Lander leaves Dokey no choice," said the elf sadly.

"I'll take those!" Grandmother Sarabi said suddenly, taking the wad of envelopes as Dokey made a mad dash to the door. She tried to take the letters back, but Grandmother Sarabi pointed her wand at the elf, so she darted to the bedroom door, pulled it open and sprinted down the stairs.

With my heart in my mouth, I chased after her with Grandmother Sarabi at my heels. I jumped the last six stairs, landing cat-like on the floor, looking through the crack in the door for Dokey. As I looked into the dining room, I saw Aunt Mavuto talking to the employer to share her company with, saying, "Tell that funny story you heard about the cleaning woman in the factory the other day, Frank. She's interested to hear all about it."

Grandmother Sarabi was behind me at this point, and we were both looking madly around for Dokey, when our eyes simultaneously landed on Dokey, who was crouched on top of the bench on the right side of the sink and she was levitating an amazing sugar iced violet pudding which was hanging over the bench. I felt my stomach drop when I saw it.

Dokey saw me looking at her and she looked straight back at me.

"Dokey," I mouthed at her. "Please … they'll kill me …"

But she paid no attention to this, and with a snap of her fingers the pudding splattered to the floor. There were shrieks from around the table as they all spun around and looked at the mess in the kitchen. I think I must have been making some pretty loud sobs, because next thing I knew (I was in shock) Grandmother Sarabi's arms were around me and the door to the stairs was flung open. Aunt Mavuto looked madder than I'd ever seen her; her eyes were popping and her teeth were gritted so tight it looked as though her jaws might never have loosened ever again.

"Mavuto, what's going on?" said the employer, her voice high from the shock.

"I'll tell you what's going on here!" said Grandmother Sarabi, stepping forward into the light. "This is not Mavuto Smith's cottage. This is actually my cottage, and this is mine and Sarafina's granddaughter, Kiara."

"Mavuto, is this true?" the employer said, rounding on Aunt Ursula.

Aunt Mavuto's jaws were still tightly locked together that all she could do was nod her head.

"Well, you can consider our deal over, Mavuto Smith! And you can say goodbye to any dealerships with any firm of our company again!" the employer yelled, and with that she walked out of the room and slammed the front door behind her.

Aunt Mavuto said that I would live to regret this before I got a mop from a cupboard and started to mop up whilst Uncle Frank grabbed a bottle of wine and poured a glass for Aunt Mavuto. I probably would have been fine, if it hadn't been for the owl.

Grandmother Sarabi opened the back door to let some air in, when an owl swooped in and dropped a letter on the table before swooping out again. I gulped as everyone looked at me as I picked up the letter.

"Read it!" snarled Aunt Mavuto. "Go on – read it!"

I picked it up. It did not contain birthday greetings.

 _Dear Miss Pride-Lander,_

 _As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spell work on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C)._

 _We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offence, under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statue of Secrecy._

 _Enjoy your holidays!_

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Mafalda Hopkirk_

 _Improper use of Magic office_

 _Ministry of Magic_

I gulped and looked up to see a bunch of different faces staring back at me; my grandmothers' faces wore looks of shock and concern whilst the Smiths' faces were glaring at me so hard it looked as though their faces would never loosen again. Grandmother Sirabi moved over to me and stood in front of me with one arm on my arm to protect me as Aunt Mavuto stood up.

"So, you're not allowed to use magic outside of school, are you?" Aunt Mavuto growled.

"Aunt Mavuto, please, it wasn't my – " I began.

"Silence, girl! You are not wriggling your way out of this – "

"Mavuto, listen to my granddaughter! She's telling the – "

"Oh, shut up, Sarabi! I don't want you to cover up for her like you always do!"

"Mavuto, it was a house-elf who did this, you must believe – "

"SILENCE, SARABI!" Aunt Mavuto yelled, and before she could say another word, I ran up the stairs and shut myself in my room. I sat down on my bed with my knees up to my head and my head between them, rocking backwards and forwards whilst listening to the drone of voices as Grandmother Sarabi and Aunt Mavuto tried to yell over each other to try and get each other's points across. I tried to think of something happy, but how can anyone when people in a room below you are yelling and you have nothing to think about except what's going to happen to you?

Well, I knew what was going to happen to me. It had happened to me before; I was going to be taken to my relative's house and locked up in the attic. A few years ago when I upset Carol during one of her birthdays, I was locked up for a week before they let me go back to my grandmothers, and a few days at a time since them. But here's the weird thing; even though I was hated by my relatives and uncared for, I received good food at times when Carol and Aunt Mavuto were out of the house and in the middle of the night and I don't even know who gave them to me and whence they came.

Anyhoo, about ten minutes later I heard Aunt Mavuto's and Grandmother Sarabi's footsteps coming up the stairs and my head popped up. Without thinking, I quickly placed my phone under the covers and had placed it carefully under them and looked up as the door flew open and Aunt Mavuto came barging in as Grandmother Sarabi swooped around her and put her arms protectively in front of me as she stood up to face Mavuto, proud and tall.

"Give her to me, Sarabi!" she yelled, holding her hand out for me. "She's coming with me, now!"

"No she's not!" Sarabi yelled back. "She is my granddaughter and I rightfully take care of her hear; so therefore, she is my responsibility and she is staying here where I can protect her!"

"I am not standing for this nonsense from you anymore, Sarabi! The girl is coming with me, NOW!"

Before Grandmother Sarabi could say another word, I stood up and said, "I'll go with you!" Grandmother Sarabi and Aunt Mavuto looked at me, stunned for a moment. Then Aunt Mavuto's mouth spoke into a wide, manic smile as she said, "For once in your life, girl, you are talking sense – "

"No, Kiara!" moaned Grandmother Sarabi pitifully.

"Before I go with you," I said quietly, "can I please say goodbye to Grandmother Sarabi?" I went over to her side and looked at Aunt Mavuto with pleading eyes. Her expression wavered and she gave a swift reluctant nod as she headed out of the door and walked back downstairs.

"Kiara, what are you doing?" Grandmother Sarabi asked me, looking shocked as I turned to look at her.

"Listen," I whispered to her, "I don't want Mavuto to listen to us, so that's why I'm whispering. When I leave the house, look under the covers. You'll find my phone. Call Sian's number and explain what happened to me, that way you might be able to come up with a plan to rescue me?" Grandmother Sarabi looked at me imploringly and then nodded. I smiled at her and said loud enough for people downstairs to hear, "I'm ready now, let me go with them! It's the only way!"

We headed out the door and went downstairs. "Kiara, please, don't do this!"

"Yes, I do, Grandmother! She will never rest until I go with her!"

"Indeed I won't, girl!" said Aunt Mavuto. We had entered the kitchen by this point. I took a deep breath and took hold of Aunt Ursula's hand as she started to drag me from the house.

"Be strong, Kiara!" Grandmother Sarafina yelled as she and Grandmother Sarabi watched me being pushed into the Smiths' car.

"Don't worry, I will!" I yelled back, as they slammed the door. I looked at my grandmothers' worried faces as they disappeared from view as the car rounded the corner. I turned to face the front and bent my head down low as I went to face my doom.

 **SARABI**

"Oh Sirabi, what are we going to do?" Sarafina said to her as the car disappeared from view and Kiara's earnest, worried face went with it. "We will never see Kiara again."

"Yes we will, Sara," said Sarabi, as they walked back into the house.

"But how? We can't save her on our own."

"I know, Sarafina. But Kiara told me that she hid her phone under her bed covers, and we have to call her friend Sian. Come on." The two women ran up the stairs and into Kiara's room and Sarabi looked under the covers and found Kiara's phone. They walked back down to the kitchen as Sarabi searched through the contacts and found Sian's number and rang it. She held the phone out in front of her as Sarafina moved round to her side and they stood looking at the phone as it rang. Then it stopped ringing and a voice answered on the other end.

"Ola, amigos!" It was Sian.

"Is this Sian Dawson?" Sirabi asked eagerly.

"Yes, and who is this calling me?"

"It's Sarabi and Sarafina, Kiara's grandmothers!" Sarabi answered.

"Oh, hello! And where's Kiara?"

"She's in trouble – "

"Trouble!?" Sian's voice changed its tone from happy to frightened and alert. "What do you mean by trouble?"

"Well, you see, she was – " Sarafina began, but they could hear Sian calling over her shoulder to someone. She then spoke back to the phone, "I'm putting you on speakerphone. I've called my mother over to hear what you've got to say to me. Hang on!"

There was silence for a few seconds and then Crighton's voice was heard saying, "Sarabi, Sarafina, what's happening? Sian says that Kiara's in trouble?"

"She is, Susan!" said Sarabi. "You see, a house-elf used a Hover Charm and Kiara got the blame for it from the Ministry – "

"A Hover Charm!" Sian's voice sounded shocked through the phone. "How –?"

"It's a long story, Sian," Sarabi answered quickly. "Anyway, Kiara has now been taken away to the Smiths house where she is being locked up in the attic where she has been locked up a few times beforehand, but this time it seems as if she's not coming out of there! We need your help to get her out of there, desperately!"

There was a sound of heels turning away on the other end, and then Sian's voice said, "Er, I think Ma's packing our things. Er … yeah, she's just told me that we are going to get a quickest flight back from Spain as we can to help you out. Do nothing until we see you in Wales. We'll see you as soon as we can. Just hold on, all right?"

"Just hold on!? This is our granddaughter we're talking about here – "

"Listen, Sarabi, you are not the only one who cares about Kiara here, and unless we keep our calm and keep our wits about us, we might come up with a good rescue plan to get Kiara out of that place and with people who truly care about her, OK?"

There was a moment of hesitation from Sarabi and Sarafina before they both said simultaneously, "OK."

"Good. We'll see you soon. Adios." The line went dead.

"All we can do now is wait and hope for a miracle, Sara. That's all we can do for now." They looked at each other nervously, and then they looked out of the window at the stars above, wondering how their brave and young granddaughter was being treated and wondering whether she was OK.

 **KIARA**

See, I told you that you would know when I was switching roles with someone! OK, back to my side of the story. It was growing steadily darker as we were driving along. I was keeping my head down, minding my own business, wondering what was going to happen to me and whether my grandmothers had phoned Sian yet. I kept twisting my hands nervously as Carol kept poking me. I didn't do anything because I was too consumed with my own thoughts. We were rushing past streets and fields before the car slowed down and we arrived at the Smiths' house.

I looked up at the house whilst the headlights were still on. It was a secluded house with a garden in the front and it was small but not too shabby with four bedrooms; the master bedroom for Aunt Mavuto and Uncle Frank, Carol's bedroom, a spare room where Carol's broken toys were kept and a guest room. A conservatory was also round the back leading out into the back garden. I looked at the house, examining all of this quickly before the door was opened and I was dragged out of the car – very painfully I should add – by my hair and into the house by Aunt Mavuto. I didn't scream or try to resist because I knew that my grandmothers would save me.

Someone behind me must have switched a light on in the hallway, for the next thing I knew there was light. A door to the left led to the lounge, dining and kitchen area which was drawn into one big room, and a door straight ahead of me led to the kitchen. There was a cupboard under the stairs which was the colour of cream. The walls were the colour of magnolia and the ceiling was that of cream and the carpet was forest green. Pictures of Carol over the years hung on the wall which I saw when I was dragged up the stairs and to the attic.

I was roughly thrown into the attic where I landed in a heap on the floor. I looked back at Aunt Mavuto with Uncle Frank standing behind her. I looked at my uncle for a quick moment and he was wearing an odd expression on his face; it looked like pity. This was for a moment though, because my attention was quickly thrown back to Aunt Mavuto who said with a ferocious look on her face, "You are not going to be rescued! You will stay locked up here forever, and you will never see that _freak_ school of yours ever again! Ever! Ha-ha!" and as I ran to the door it closed with a loud bang behind her as I banged on the door a few times before I switched on the light and fell to the floor and broke into tears before I looked round the room.

It was a small room with a cracked mirror and boxes of old photographs lining the walls and wall paper was cracking from the ceiling down, and it had a round window which was not boarded up so I could look out to the street below. There was a small, rugged, moth-eaten bed in the middle of the room, with a rather old, thin blanket over it with a broken old cabinet on the left-hand side of it with broken brushes on the top to brush my hair of a morning. So let's just say, it wasn't the happiest or the most pleasant place I've been in my life – well, besides the Potions' classroom down in the dungeons. There was a cat flap under the door so that small amounts of food could be given to me at certain points during the day and a loose floorboard beside the cabinet where I was hiding a writing set given to me by my grandmother Sarabi a few years before this at another time when I was in trouble. I had it hidden under my coat when I was dragged away here and I placed it under the floorboard which I made loose

I was worrying what I was going to do about the rest of my homework which I still had to complete, but I pushed that unhappy thought aside as I took off my coat, threw it to the floor and climbed in the small bed, where I lay for a long while, tossing and turning, cold and crying my self to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **A Long Kept Secret and a Rescue**

 **KIARA**

It was a few days before I got any news from my grandmothers about what was going on and when they were going to get me. My hair was a mess and I needed a long, hot bath. I was given small amounts of food and time to use the toilet when I had to. But good amounts of food were given to me late in the night and early in the morning when everyone else in the house was sound asleep. I kept wondering who was bringing me good food and what was happening outside my small, cramped prison room. I got the answers to these questions about three days later (I say "about" because I am writing this many years after these events had happened, so my memory, as you would expect, isn't as strong as it used to be).

The day started like any other in my prison; my breakfast was given to me – a rather pitiful meal of cold soup with two dry slices of thin toast – I brushed my hair and opened the window, since it was stuffy inside. I had nothing to occupy myself with so I slumped down to the floor where I once again consumed myself with my unpleasant thoughts. Then a few hours later, a banging noise outside made me jump out of my thoughts as a shadow landed on the window at the same moment. I looked up and was delighted to see that Harold was on my window. I jumped up quickly and beckoned him in before Aunt Mavuto or Uncle Frank could see him. As soon as I sat down on the floor, he jumped onto my shoulder and nipped my ear affectionately.

"I take it someone missed me, then?" I said, half-laughing as he nipped my ear again. He then landed on the floor and waved his ear to the bed. It was then that I noticed the letter on the bed. I ripped open the envelope and noticed Grandmother Sarabi's handwriting. The letter said:

 _My Dearest Kiara,_

 _I hope that you are all right. Sarafina and I are terribly worried about you. I know that those people are not treating you well, but I do hope that you will not be near enough skin and bone by the time you get this, even if it has been a few days since you left us. You acted bravely and without a fuss, and I am quite proud of you for that._

 _To get to the matter of things Kiara, I am sending this letter with Harold not only to make sure that the Smiths don't catch him and that you are all right, but also to tell you that I phoned your friend Sian a couple of days ago and she and her mother should be here tomorrow, so we should be able to get you out of there in a few more days, so sit tightly for a while longer._

 _I hope that you are safe. Send word with Harold to tell us that you_ are _all right, because we are dying to know. Sarafina sends you her love and even Crooks is pining after you._

 _Hope to see you soon._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Grandmother Sarabi_

I opened the loose floorboard beside my bedside cabinet, took out the writing set, took a piece of parchment and a pen from it and wrote:

 _Dear Grandmother Sarabi,_

 _Thank you for asking how I am. The Smiths are treating me as usual here and I am still living._

 _I hope to see you soon. Give my love to Grandmother Sarafina and Crooks for me._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Kiara_

 _P.S.: thank you for telling me Crooks is pining after me. It's nice to know that even he is thinking about me._

I read through this quickly, nodded at how it sounded and then tied it to Harold's leg. I had just finished tying it when I heard Aunt Mavuto's voice come floating up through the window:

"Right, we'll be back in a few hours, so whilst we're gone, make sure the girl stays up there, all right, Frank?"

"Don't worry, Mav, she'll be fine with me. And Carol will be good for her mum, won't she?"

"Oh don't you worry about that, Franklyn, I'll make sure that she'll be on her best behaviour."

I waited with bated breath for the car to pull out of the drive and go speeding off down the street. Once that sound had passed, I sent Harold off into the distance with the letter he had for Grandmother Sarabi tied to his leg. I felt melancholy because he was free and I was not.

I didn't have long to dwell on this, however, for I heard footsteps come thumping up the stairs, so without thinking I stuffed Grandmother Sarabi's letter and the writing set and the stuff it contained back under the loose floorboard. I had just put the floorboard back when the steps reached the landing and there was an unlocking of the door and the door of the attic was opened. I looked at the door and saw Uncle Frank standing in the doorway, holding a tray of sandwiches and two plastic cups with orange juice in.

He came in and closed the door. "I saw an owl fly out of here a few minutes ago," he said as he stepped closer to me.

I gulped and I could feel sweat starting to form on my forehead and terror starting to form on my face. I forgot that Uncle Frank had been saying farewell to Ursula. I wondered if I was going to get a beating. But the strangest thing happened.

Instead of looking angry, he smiled at me as he said gently, "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you, Kiara."

"Y-you're not?" I stammered, as I took a step towards him, relief spreading all over my face quicker than running water.

He shook his head as he placed the tray down on the floor and sat down beside me. "It's your aunt and my daughter who hate you, not me. I, funnily enough, actually like you and the world you live in, for I find it fascinating."

"You do?" I asked, engaged by now.

"Yes, and don't worry, I won't tell your aunt about this and this food is for us. I'm the one who has also been giving you good food out of the fridge for the past few years now." He smiled at me with a gentle, loving smile, a smile that seemed had been waiting under his skin for many years to appear.

I was intrigued and surprised at this, for my uncle had never been interested in me before; but then again, strange and new things happen to people all the time.

"So, tell me about this wizarding world of yours."

"What would you like to know?" I asked, taking a bite out of a sandwich.

"Everything," he answered simply.

So I told him everything I knew; how I got my scar, about the place I had been to on my eleventh birthday with all the shops, that you had to get through by the doors in the Witching Service, what Dragon Mort was like, what my classes were like, what I liked and didn't like about the school, about Mina and I told him about Quidditch. I told him what had happened in my first year at school about the Mirror of Wishes and how we were sorted into the houses at Dragon Mort. He also asked me about my friends and what happened the other night when the pudding smashed. He was certainly interested in the wizarding world; he listened to everything I said, laughed at some of the things I said, was shocked at some things I said and took everything on board.

After the questioning session was over and we had eaten all we could, he took the tray downstairs as I used the loo. When I went back to the attic Uncle Frank held a bucket of warm water which he washed my hair in. The water felt good with my hair, for it felt nourished and he dried it, too. Then he gave me a few snacks and we talked a bit more before we heard Aunt Mavuto's car pull up in the driveway. Uncle Frank looked at me and hugged me quickly as he said, "This remains between us, Kiara. I swear it to you!" Then he let me go, headed out the door and locked it again.

 **FRANK**

Frank hurried back downstairs as the door opened and Mavuto and Carol came in, laden with their shopping. They both looked exceedingly pleased with themselves and hugged Frank as soon as they laid their shopping in the lounge.

"Everything all right here, Frank?" Mavuto asked her husband.

"Yes, all has been quiet and normal here. Thank goodness," he added under his breath, to which they both laughed at.

"What about her?" Mavuto jerked her head upstairs to where Kiara was locked up. "Has _she_ been behaving herself?"

"As far as I can tell, Mav, she's been quieter than usual, so I've checked up on her every half hour or so to see what she's been doing." Mavuto seemed satisfied with this, so she bustled off into the kitchen to start on the dinner for the evening, whilst Frank breathed freely, looking at Carol watching the television, but thinking about the things that he and his niece had said. And the reason he didn't tell Ursula that he like Kiara is because he was intimidated by his wife and didn't want to upset her, something that Kiara didn't find out until many years later.

 **KIARA**

I didn't hear what went on downstairs, but what I do know is that I was thinking about all the things that me and Uncle Frank discussed whilst we were in the attic room together. At certain points during the day, I could tell that Uncle Frank made certain excuses to slip little treats like chocolate bars and a few small pieces of fruit into my room, which I was grateful for. I looked back at that moment at the times when Uncle Frank looked behind my aunt's back in the past, and it was then that I realised that the looks he was giving me were not those of anger, but rather encouraging smiles or looks of pity whenever I got blamed for something, which seemed to me to say, "Don't worry, Kiara, I know it wasn't your fault, so keep your chin up". Filled with these pleasant thoughts, I fell to sleep easily that night, where I met my father in the dream field as I now called it and told him all about Uncle Frank's new way of thinking towards me, which he was as glad about as I was.

Two days after this – where Uncle Frank kept slipping me treats in between meals and at breakfast, lunch and meals – I finally was rescued from my prison and this is what happened.

It was late at night, some time between ten and eleven if I remember rightly, and it was a calm, cool night. It was cloudy and a light breeze rustled the trees outside and all was quiet out there too. I was sitting alone in the attic, sitting on the bed and minding my own business listening to the dull sounds on the television set below when there was a knock at the door. I didn't jump when my aunt yelled as she walked to the door because I was used to her yelling by now. I heard her footsteps walk to the door, heard the door open and low voices talking for half a minute. But I did jump when I heard my aunt scream and then I heard a thud and a few cracks from below that gave me the impression that whoever was at the door had hit my aunt and then threw her against a wall which started to crack. I then heard my cousin's screams get louder as she ran to her room and started to barricade my door. Then there was silence for a moment and then my uncle's scream, another loud thud and then a breaking of plaster which meant that the ceiling must have caved in. then I hear soft feet running up the stairs towards me.

I was scared now as the footsteps came nearer. I wondered if they were going to attack me as easily as they attacked my aunt and uncle. The footsteps were getting closer and closer. I got up nervously off the bed and moved behind it as the footsteps stopped and I saw a shadow right underneath my door. Whoever it was trying to see if the door was unlocked and was trying to barge their way in. I was wondering what I could do to defend myself as the footsteps backed away from the door and then ran towards the door and kicked it open. I had to shield my eyes as light from the stairs flooded in. As I lowered my eyes my fear faded away as I saw who was smiling gently at me in the doorway. For it wasn't some random attacker, it was –

"S.D.!" I yelled delightedly as I ran towards her and we hugged quickly. "Boy am I glad to see you here!"

"And I'm glad to see you too, Kiara," said Sian as she looked closely at me. Her blue-grey eyes, which could sometimes give you the impression that they looked like frozen pools of water when she was angry or upset, were filled with a mixture of concern and happiness for my safety. "Are you all right? Have they hurt you?"

"No, but how did you know –?"

"No time to explain now, my dear. Right now, my job is to get you safely out of here. Come on." And with that, she led me from the attic and down the stairs. As we went she took out her phone, rang a number and said, "Joey, bring the car around." A voice on the other end must have answered in a good way, for she nodded, hung up and put the phone away. I took a closer look at Sian as we walked downstairs. She seemed to have grown a bit more and she was tanned too, but apart from that she was still the same intelligent, brown haired girl that I remembered from last year.

When we reached the hall my aunt and uncle were shaking and looking cautiously at Sian. She gave me a swift smile before she turned to the Smiths and said to them, "If you ever do anything like this to Kiara ever again, be warned that our people will know and we will come and get her. Remember: we know where you live!"

And still holding one arm around me, we walked out of the house together with Uncle Frank at our heels. When we were safely out of earshot of Aunt Ursula, Sian turned to Uncle Frank and said to him, "Thank you for helping me to get to Kiara, Mr Smith."

"Don't mention it," he said, wiping this comment aside with a wave of his hand. "Any friend of Kiara's is a friend of mine and besides, I care about her happiness and safety as much as you do." He looked at me then. "Come here, you." He held out his arms and we hugged. "Take care of yourself and I'll see you soon. I love you, Kiara."

"I love you too, Uncle Frank," I said as he kissed me on the forehead and let me go as we both looked at Sian who had taken out her purse and was rifling through her Muggle money. She found two ten pound notes and handed them to Uncle Frank separately, saying as she placed each in his hand, "This is for helping me save Kiara, and this one is to not to tell your wife about you telling me where she was and about this little scene."

"Thank you very much," said Uncle Frank. Then he and Sian shared a last smile, I waved at Uncle Frank and then me and Sian set off down the driveway where a sleek black car about half the size of a regular standard limo was waiting for us with a tall man standing beside it who was wearing polished black boots which did not match the rest of his out fit which was made up of dirty black pants, a stained black shirt with a red neckerchief round his neck which looked as if it had soot on it. He had a patched tailcoat, gloves with the holes for fingers cut out and in one hand he was holding a patched top hat and with the other hand he was holding the back door open. He had black hair which was going grey, hazel eyes, a big bushy beard and eyebrows that were also black going on grey and he was going through middle aging for their were lines about his mouth, eyes and forehead. This I thought must have been Joey who Sian was talking to before, and he was smiling at us with a big grin on his face.

"I see ya got the girl all righ' then, Miss D?" he said with a strong cockney accent.

"Your eyes can do the telling for you, Joey, for they do not right now deceive you," Sian said simply in her sarcastic manner that was sometimes her way of telling people "well, durr", to which Joey nodded his head and opened the back door even wider for me as I got nearer. And when I looked inside properly, I got another surprise, for in the back of the car was –

"Grandmother Sarabi!" I gasped delightedly, as I got in and me and my grandmothers embraced. "Grandmother Sarafina!"

"Oh, we're so glad to see you, Kiara!"

"We're glad to see your safe!"

I smiled at them and they at me before I said to Grandmother Sarabi, "Thank you for calling Sian for me, Grandmother Sarabi."

"Well, I had to, and besides, she and her mother were the people who came up with the plan to get you out of there!"

"But how did you –?"

"Wait until we're in the air, Kiara," said Sian, as she got in the front passenger seat, slammed the door and started to fasten her seatbelt over her and indicating that I should do the same. "Right now we need to get out of here, pronto."

"But what about Harold and my trunk?"

"Don't worry about them, my dear," said Sian gently, twisting awkwardly in her seat to look at me. "Your trunk is in the back of this car with Harold's cage – we got everything of yours ready before we left – and your grandmothers sent Harold onto the Dawsons' family home."

"Which reminds me," Grandmother Sarabi said suddenly, as she reached inside a pocket of her jacket and she pulled out my phone and handed it to me. I fastened my seatbelt and took my phone back and pocketed it.

"Right, everyone buckled up and ready to go? No more fussing around or anything else of that sort? Right then," Sian said, as she turned back to face Joey and said to him, "on home to Dawson Manor."

"Righto, Miss D," he said as he wheeled the car around and flicked a switch dial by the dash board which changed the car from _Driving Mode_ to _Flying Mode_. I watched in amazement as the top and bottom parts of the wheel detached themselves mechanically and hid themselves in a compartment above the glove box which opened and closed automatically, and as this happened, I felt the car begin to change. I looked out of the window and I saw aeroplane wings which were smaller to weigh out the size of the car and the four driving wheels disappeared and three smaller wheels – one at the front in the middle of the car, and two other smaller wheels at the back – appeared in their places like a car-plane. I looked up and Sian smiled at the shocked look on my face.

"This, Kiara, my dear girl, is just a small taste of the full genius of who my family are and what we can do." Then she turned back to Joey and said to him, "Onto the Manor, Joey! Let's go!"

And with that, we sped off deep into the night, the darkness of the night covering our flight.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Dawson Manor**

 **KIARA**

As we flew through the air towards Dawson Manor, I looked out the window at the houses and cars that we flew over which looked like a miniature city and the fields that we passed looked like a patchwork quilt. I then looked back at Sian's seat (she was facing the front again).

"So S.D., what happened back there between you and the Smiths?" I asked her.

"Yes, good question, Kiara," Grandmother Sarabi said.

Sian turned round in her seat and told us, "I'll be happy to tell you Kiara, but don't you want to hear how we came to get you?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Go ahead and tell me, but keep it short."

"OK then. Well, before we got you, me and Ma got Joey to pick us up from Mexico and flew us quickly to Wales where we met your grandmothers and arranged this rescue. It took a couple of hours, but we got there in the end. Then Ma and I left and your grandmothers sent Harold that note to you. They got the note you sent to them, they were relieved and rang me to tell me what you wrote. Then they sent Harold on to Dawson Manor where he's staying now. After I stopped talking to your grandmothers, me and Ma were talking about which one of us would be the one to get you out of there, but in the end we both agreed that I would be the one to go and get you out of there with your grandmothers in this car.

"So, a few hours ago me and Joey set off to fetch your grandmothers who had already packed your trunk for you. We got the trunk and your grandmothers in the car and then set off. Your grandmothers guided the car to where the Smiths live, but I wanted the car to be placed around a corner so that no one would know what we were doing. I told the others to wait in the car whilst I walked towards the house. I knocked on the door and heard your aunt screaming, "Who the hell is knocking on the door at this time of night? I don't even like being disturbed during the day!" she opened the door saw me and said, "Er, who are you?" and I said, "Someone who will be a foe to you unless you don't give me Kiara Pride-Lander this minute." She panicked and tried to close the door on me, but I stuck my foot in the door and said, "Look, fighting against me is pointless. I am a friend of Kiara's from school who is her to rescue her. Now hand her over and no one gets hurt." Sian paused in her story and sighed.

"So then what happened S.D.?"

"Well, your aunt kept on screaming and trying to shut the door, so I sighed and said, "Well, you asked for it", then I blew the door open with my feet and smashed your aunt into the wall. Your cousin then ran upstairs and by the sounds that I could hear, it sounded to me as though she was barricading herself in her room – "

"She was –" I said, but Sian ignored this.

"– and I turned to your uncle to attack him, but he told me that he loves you and that I could find you in the attic. He also told me to trust him and he also asked me to throw him against the wall to prove that he is still siding with his wife."

"Why did he do that?" I asked.

"Oh, didn't he tell you? He's only been agreeing with his wife about you behind your back because he's intimidated by his wife. Anyhoo, I threw him against the wall and ran up to the attic to get you. I tried to open the door but it was locked and I couldn't use magic to bust it open outside school, so I used my martial arts skills to kick it open, and the rest, as the Muggles say, is history …"

"Wow," I said, amazed and impressed by what Sian can do. "So do you know what's been happening with me over the summer?"

"Oh yeah, your grandmothers told me and Ma all about what happened involving Dokey and what she was doing with your mail and the phone calls. We knew about the Howler, because my father works for the Ministry of Magic in the Auror Department – Dark Wizard Catcher," she added to the puzzled look on my face. "He likes Muggles, though. He thinks that they're fascinating. Anyhoo, he told us and your grandmothers told us why, but the Ministry isn't going to let you off the hook, I'm afraid." She looked at me with a face full of pity.

"So what do you think about Dokey's warning, then?" I asked her.

"Well, Ma hasn't heard of anything dangerous going on at Dragon Mort, so that's good. And getting to the point, I think that Malty is trying to play a joke on you, Kiara. Chris and Chrissie agree with me; they miss you too, by the way. Dad always said he'd love to get Narissa Malty one of these days. He's interested to see you again and to learn more about the Muggle world from you, and Ma is interested to see how you are, too."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. Ma has been just as worried about you as I have. She wouldn't believe me when I said that you were fine when I told her so myself, so that's why I'll be glad when she gets to have a look at you, so that I don't have to put up with her going on with her endless questions and fretting about you."

"Has it really been that bad, Sian?" Grandmother Sarafina asked her.

"Oh, you have no idea. You see, Ma has been driving us all mad with her endless talk about Kiara for the past few days now. I'll be glad when we get home."

"Where exactly do you live, Sian?" I asked her. I didn't really know a lot about the Dawsons' home, because they were a pure blood family and their home was a proper wizarding home. Besides that, I didn't really ask Sian, Chris or Chrissie about it when we were at school the first year, so I was keen to know what life was like away from school.

"Well, our family lives in a secluded forest in the north west, with a river running through the forest and we live in privacy from Muggle eyes, so Quidditch practice is OK for those who practice. Our methods of technology are very odd too, because we use a mixture of wizarding and Muggle technology; so we mix the old world with the new world. We do not use house elves, and besides Joey, we have few servants who work for us; there's a gardener and the caretaker and the cleaners who come around every Saturday to do a bit of work around the house, but that's all you really need to know about our surroundings. Me and my siblings also have to do our bit around the house too, like tidy our rooms and look after different parts of the house; for you see, each of us has our own selected area. And that reminds me, you'll have to do your bit too; even if though you are the guest, you still have to live by our rules. The house itself, however, is far more complex to understand, so you'll have to wait until we get there to see what I mean about it."

I nodded, and as I did, I noticed that my eye lids were drooping. I saw Sian looking at me and she said, "We'll be at the Manor in a few hours, Kiara, so sleep while we drive through the air. We'll wake you up before we hit the ground." She smiled at me and faced the front, watching the clouds fly past us. I leaned back in my seats and watched strange shapes form themselves weirdly in my mind, and as they did and I felt the smooth and silent car fly through them, I fell into a deep and truly pleasant sleep.

I awoke several hours later by Sian tapping at my leg. I looked out of the window at the sky which was changing to pink streaked with yellow which meant that it was dawn. I looked next to me and saw that my grandmothers were just awaking from their slumber too. I looked at Sian who simply said, "Good morning, Kiara."

I yawned and said, "Are we there yet?"

"Nearly, Kiara. We're passing over the forest where we are in the middle of now. It's just a little further before we head down to earth. Joey's just on the look out for the drop point so that he knows where to start the car's decent."

"Do you know where the drop point is exactly?" I asked her.

"It's a small circle where trees have been cut down with a sign stamped in the middle saying "DROP POINT", and – oh, here we go," Sian said, as the nose of the car started to drop down. Joey must have been looking for something because he was swerving the car left and right. I looked out of my window and saw what it was that he was looking for; it was an off road path which was made for the car which lead deep into the forest.

Joey went on top of the path and started to send the car downwards and Sian said as we were descending, "Time to switch back to driving mode, Joey. And change the tyres to off road, too. He always forgets about that," she added aside to me.

As the car was approaching the road at a much faster pace and I thought we were going to crash, Joey quickly switched the car dial back to _Driving Mode_ and switched a tyre dial to _Off Road_. I felt the car begin to change again; the steering wheel turned back to a normal car wheel, the wings of the plane slid back into the car and the engine turned to normal. I also felt something heavier growing underneath me, which I assumed was the tyres. I checked my seatbelt was tight for good measure as we hit the road with a bit of a bump and we were speeding off deeper into the forest as smoothly as if we were flying with the trees flying past us in a big green blur. The ride was that smooth I hardly noticed that we were turning at all.

"The point's coming up, Miss D," Joey said as Sian rolled down her window and she stuck her hands out.

"You're going to enjoy this!" she yelled to us in the back as the wind blew her hair out wildly backwards, and as it did so, she took off her gloves, but I didn't really notice that. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out of the window to see what was going on. I saw Sian look quickly back at Joey, who must have nodded for Sian stuck her head back out of the window holding her hands out and what happened next was extraordinary, for a ball of electric green light appeared in her hands and she rolled it right into the trees where the path ended, and instead of destroying the trees, it seemed to whoosh through the forest up to and around Dawson Manor, for Sian clicked her fingers and the trees in front of us miraculously seemed to split in half and make a wider path for us. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I could have swore that I was dreaming. I saw the trees in front of us widening and as I looked behind me, I saw the trees behind us closing off the road and turning back into full trees, without even the slightest trace of cracks in their trunks as far as I could see. As I stuck my head back inside the car I saw that I wasn't the only one who was impressed, for my grandmothers had big surprised smiles on their faces too. Sian just nodded and smiled at us.

The drive was as smooth as ever, apart from the odd bump as we turned around corners. I looked out of my window and saw bits of white with red rooftops. I looked at Sian who said, "Yep, we're almost at Dawson Manor. What you just saw was the top of the Manor."

We drove for a bit longer before we stopped outside of a gate which was surrounding the Manor; the problem was that the Manor suddenly wasn't there any more. I couldn't see anything beyond the gate; it was murky brown like the sort of common muddy puddle. I wondered what was going on and looked at my grandmothers who were thinking exactly the same thing. I looked at Sian and Joey, about to ask what was happening, before Sian stepped out of the car. It looked like this had happened before with them, for Sian went up to the gate and it looked like she was whispering something to it before she came back and got in the car, although I learnt years later that she actually just slid her fingers down one of the bars of the gate, for she was touching it at the time. I looked out the window and saw the gate start to slide away, unravelling itself and sliding under the ground, which swallowed it up.

After this had happened, the murkiness disappeared and a glorious building appeared before my eyes; it was tall and made entirely of polished white marble, with red tiles for the roof. Windows covered most of the upstairs and sides of the house from what I could see as we drove up the neat gravel driveway. A neat lawn covered both sides of the driveway and the sides of the house. The turrets were in strange shapes; some were round and some were swirled, some were curved and some were coned. The building itself, from what I could see from the front, was shaped differently to any other house4 I had ever seen in my life. Sure, the front reached up normally, but as I looked to the side, I saw that it bent in a bit halfway around, so some of it ducked in, and further on it straightened out again. I know it's hard for me to explain and for you to understand, but trust me when I say, it's true. The manor was a very tall building, which reached high above the trees and I saw a big rooftop covering the front part of the grand mansion, which I guessed must be where the attic was. As the car stopped at the doorway, I saw in fancy gold plated writing across the top of the doorstep was written _DAWSON MANOR_. I looked out of the door and saw that it was surprisingly small and I wondered how we were all going to get inside; but then I remembered that this was a wizarding house and that anything could happen.

We stepped out of the car and I looked wide-eyed up at the Manor. I turned to Sian and said, "This is a truly wondrous and beautiful home for you and your family, Sian."

"Yes, I agree with you, Kiara," said Grandmother Sarabi.

"Absolutely spectacular," said Grandmother Sarafina, who looked as if she had never seen a building more incredible than Dawson Manor in her life.

"Thank you," said Sian, blushing slightly. "I thought you'd like it. Forgive some of the shapes of the turrets and towers where the tiles are placed. My mother designed them because she thought that she would use some of her eccentricity in creating this house with my father."

"Your _parents_ built this house?" I asked, getting more impressed by the minute.

Sian chuckled and said, "No. they just designed it. They got more people to help them build it. Now Joey," she said, turning to him, "take Miss Pride-Lander's trunk out of the car and take it up to her room before you park and lock the car, will you?"

"Righ'o, Miss D," he said as he moved to the boot. Sian, my grandmothers and I moved to the door which grew as we climbed the marble stairs. It was painted gold and the stained glass windows were split into shapes, which were then put together intricately to look like a phoenix, which was also the animal of the shiny golden knocker just under the stained glass window of the phoenix. The door grew a head taller than the tallest person to walk through the door (Sian) and we passed into a hallway as the front door shrunk behind us.

I looked around the hallway. It was spacious with polished white marble walls and few baby pictures which were moving – as is common to see in the wizarding world – which were hung on both walls (Sian told me in later life that one of the pictures which was blown up was only blown up because her father thought that it looked like Sian was playing a guitar and he found it funny. Sian though is not amused by this, at all). A hat stand and a coat stand stood on the left side of the hallway and a shoe shelf stood on the other side with an umbrella stand next to it. The floor was a polished wooden floor with a blue rug covering it and a wooden white door stood at the end of the hallway leading on to the rest of the house.

Whilst me and my grandmothers were looking around, Joey came pushing past us carrying my trunk and Harold's cage and Sian took off her coat and shoes and put her slippers on. She was wearing blue jeans with a purple top which was shortened at the elbows and was v-necked. She always had grown-up clothes Sian did – and still does – because of how she has been brought up, as you will discover why shortly.

"Right," Sian said, looking at a mirror hanging over the shoe shelf, "come on in and meet the house and family." She then opened the wooden door, stepped through to the other side and stood back to let us through.

The inside of the house was incredible. Laminate polished flooring lay at our feet again and instead of white marble covering the walls, the walls were painted in a luxurious cream which stood out from the marble. There were doors on the left hand side which led to somewhere downstairs and to the right there was a carpeted hallway which turned right at the end of the long hallway. At the end of the entrance room stood another white wooden door. I looked to the right hand side and saw a fire place with a pot full of glittering white powder on top of the mantle piece and on the left hand side of the mantle piece was a computer and on the left hand side of the computer was a steel spiral staircase which must have led up to the bedrooms because when I looked up I saw that the upstairs was covered up by ceiling. I smiled at how beautiful this place was and compared it to my home. And so you all know, I am still jealous of how Dawson Manor looks.

I looked at Sian then who was about to say something to me, but a well-known voice called from upstairs, "Did I just hear people come in?"

Sian chuckled and said, "It's me, Ma. And I've brought company."

A soft, low pattering of feet almost like a child's came running closer to us from upstairs and I looked up as I saw Professor Crighton's head appear at the top of the staircase. Her shocked confused looked suddenly turned into that of happy relief as she rushed down the stairs. She was wearing robes of the lightest gold today. She looked the same as the last time I saw her; the same long face, the same twinkling green eyes, the same dark brown, waist length hair which had gained a bit more silver and the same wide smile of welcome, like the sun welcoming a new day. "Kiara," she said to me, her arms held out wide in welcome, "How good it is to see you safe and well in our home."

I smiled at her and said, "It's finally good to be here, ma'am. I'm glad to be away from the Smiths and I'm also glad that Sian came to rescue me."

Her smile widened as she turned to Sian and said, "So I take it the rescue mission went well then, my darling?"

"Perfectly well, thank you, Mother. They handed her over to me without even having to harm her. And get this, her uncle likes her now."

"Really?" Crighton sounded interested. "Well, at least that's something good." Then she turned to my grandmothers and said to them, "Sarabi, Sarafina, welcome to our home. Tell me, what do you think of it?"

"It's amazing, Susan."

"Absolutely spectacular."

Crighton smiled at them before turning back to Sian and saying, "Right then Siany, Chrissie's making breakfast and your booklists should be here later on in the holidays, so keep your eyes pealed. Take care of Kiara whilst she is staying here and treat her like one of the family. I shall be calling in on you once a week to see how she is settling in. Oh, and give your father my love, all right, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Mother," Sian answered firmly, as if she were declaring an answer to a question that an army general had just asked her.

"Good." Professor Crighton then looked at me and Sian at the same time as she said, "Right, I have to get back to the school, so I shall be seeing you both in September." She touched my cheek, kissed Sian gently on the head, nodded to my grandmothers and walked out of the door.

My grandmothers then looked at me and Sian once the door had closed before Grandmother Sarabi said, "Well, I think it's time that Sarafina and I were off, too."

"Yes, I really have to have words with my daughter about how they treated you, Kiara," said Grandmother Sarafina.

"And so do I, Sara," said Grandmother Sarabi to her.

"Wait, you're not leaving now, are you?" I said to them desperately. "I mean, I've only just got back together with you again. You can't just go now."

Grandmother Sarabi looked at me with eyes full of pity as she said, "I know that, Kiara. But this has to be cleared up so that you don't get locked up in their house again. Besides, we've arranged it with Sian and her mother that you will stay here for the rest of the holidays."

"But –"

"Listen to me, Kiara. We will see you off on September the first at the sub house, but until then you will be far safer here than anywhere else in the world right now, besides Dragon Mort, OK?" I looked at them and after a short silence I nodded and smiled at them, as they smiled at me.

Sian rushed to the window, opened it and shouted, "MA! WAIT RIGHT THERE! KIARA'S GRANDMOTHERS ARE ABOUT TO LEAVE!" I didn't hear what Crighton said, but Sian gave a swift and satisfied smile and ran back to us and said, "Sarabi. Sarafina. My mother is waiting for you to follow her out of the gate. Once outside the gate, you will be able to use along-side Apparition to take you and Sarafina to the Smiths."

"Thank you," Grandmother Sarabi said to Sian, who smiled at her. I then hugged both my grandmothers who kissed me back, told Grandmother Sirabi to call me tonight as soon as all the trouble was over, which she agreed to. They both shook hands with Sian and left. Me and Sian went over to the window and watched them catch up with Crighton. The three women walked out of the gate and disappeared from our view. Sian then turned to me and put one arm around me, saying, "Don't worry, you're safe with us now." She gave me a smile like a mother would, which I was comforted by and I swallowed back the tears which were coming to my face.

"Cheer up, Kiara. It's not the end of the world, you know," Sian said gently, as she rubbed my back and handed me a tissue. "Look, I know that things look pretty bad right now, but everything's going to be OK. You'll see your grandmothers again before school starts and you're here with us now. So dry those tears and let me see you smile." I couldn't help but smile after she said this, and after that the tears quickly went away. Sian then smiled at me and we both stood up. Sian then took a long sniff and smiled and nodded her approval at something.

"Good. I see that Chrissie's got breakfast cooking. Come on, missy," she said, turning to me. "Let's go to the kitchen and see what is going on."

I followed Sian as she led me past the computer and the fireplace and we turned a corner – for there was nothing but wall – and walked down a corridor where more rooms stretched off. I didn't get the chance to see what was behind them because the doors were all closed. Floral-patterned rugs covered the floor and the walls were white washed and clean, with paintings of their ancestors, I thought. We then walked through a door and down a small flight of stairs, through another door and came upon a corridor filled with portraits of women on the left and men on the right. As we came close to another door where a strong smell of eggs and bacon was wafting from under the crack, I took a glance at the last painting and stopped in my tracks; for the picture looked a lot like Crighton. I didn't realise that Sian was standing by me until I looked at her. She smiled and nodded at the questioning look on my face.

"Yes, that is my mother. It was painted on the very day she came of age, which is seventeen in the wizarding world."

"She hasn't changed much," I said as I looked at her mother again; for she was pretty much the same, apart from the fact that her hair was all brown and there were no lines of aging. Sian chuckled.

"Yes, well my mother has always been one of those people who look twenty-five when in reality they are fifty."

"Wow," I sighed. "I hope that I look that good when I reach fifty."

"So do I, Kiara, but I also think that if you look young and fresh and healthy on the outside, that doesn't always necessarily reflect that they are the same on the inside," Sian said, with a rather knowing look which I came to learn in later years to be a certain look of wisdom which she had about her. I gave her a look which clearly said "What are you talking about?" for she shook her head next moment and said, "Nothing. Come, you must be hungry, and besides, you'll be able to meet most of our family soon." She beckoned me to follow her, and I walked behind her through the door ahead of us.

We had entered the kitchen; I could tell that it was the kitchen by the glistening pots and pans that glowed as the sunlight gleamed through the windows. I saw a door with windows on either side at the far end of the room with trees that were blowing gently in the breeze, so that meant that we were at the back at the house, for the door led through to the gardens. The kitchen was wide and spacious; in the middle of the room a long dining table with a lace table cloth awaited the Dawsons' and me to be seated. A fridge and a freezer stood side by side at the far end of the room to the left of the door. I saw marble benches that were sparkling around the room, with cupboards underneath the benches and just enough space above the benches was allowed, for there were cupboards above for the cutlery, china, glasses and other materials used for cooking. The cupboards below were used for foods that didn't need to be frozen. Another small flight of stairs which were wooden led from the door to the stone floor, and as I turned my head to the right, I saw, humming a tune and cooking bacon was Chrissie.

"Morning, Chrissie," said Sian, who had already jumped the stairs and was helping her sister make the breakfast as I looked around the glorious sunshine-yellow kitchen. "Look who we've got with us," and she nodded her head in my direction.

As I looked at Chrissie, she looked at me, gasped, dropped the spatula into the pan and ran up the three stairs to meet me. We hugged and then we stood back to look at each other, our smiles both full of warmth at seeing each other after being separated for so long.

Chrissie hadn't changed, apart from the fact that she had grown a couple of inches. She still had the same electric blue sparkling eyes, the same oaky brown hair and all the same features as before. She was wearing a dressing gown over her night gown and she seemed wide awake. She was going to say something before Sian interrupted our bubble of happiness with her usual way of speaking –

"That's it, Chrissie; almost knock the breakfast over, why don't you?"

Chrissie turned with a rather impatient air to her elder sister and said, "I'm just happy to see Kiara, S.D. That's not a problem, is it?"

"No, but upsetting the breakfast is," she said pointedly, and as she nodded to us to come and help and turned back to the breakfast, she gave Chrissie a look which clearly said "idiot", looked up to the heavens and shook her head as she shuffled the sausages. Chrissie hung her head as we walked over to Sian, and as we joined her I thought that we could hear her muttering under her breath something like, "fool". As I went to help, Sian put her hand out and said, "Not you, Kiara. Just Chrissie and I. But you can help to set the table for us." And she pulled out of the cupboard above her a number of plates two piles at a time along with plate mats. "Set the plate mats around the table before you put the plates on top, but leave this spot clear," she said, nodding to the chair in front of us, "for that is where our mother sits. Get to it, then."

Sian then turned her back on me and went back to talking to Chrissie as they were cooking the breakfast and I set the plates. Just as I set the last plate, I heard footsteps approaching. I turned round, and even though he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his hair was a rumpled mess, he was bleary eyed and he looked like he had just got out of bed and dressed whilst sleepwalking. I knew that light brown hair and those green eyes; it was Chris Rickers, my third best friend, Sian and Chrissie being the other two.

I remember the first time that I met these three; you had Sian of course, the eldest Dawson girl, who is tall, beautiful and elegant like her mother, Chrissie who is pretty, tall and slow unlike Sian and then you have Chris who is the adopted brother and looks nothing like Sian and Chrissie or the rest of the Dawson siblings (along with Ben and Dave, but we'll get to that later). I discovered that Sian had taken a liking to me, but she was frosty and kept her distance from me for a while, but that was only because of some of the things that she went through in her childhood, but Chris and Chrissie had taken a real liking towards me, but that is entirely beside the point.

Getting back to the point at hand, I shook their hands, but when I shook Chris' hand, neither of us expected the shock that went through us, for we saw colours and flashes of memories that were distant and vague, like our souls had just met that created a bond between us that would grow over time. Sian explained to us that this was called the Soul Mate Theory and that the bond would improve as the years went by. For the most part of the last year when he wasn't talking to me, he would often stare at me like I was the sun that he was blinded by. I also think that he was – and still is – impressed by my beauty, although I don't see that myself. Anyhoo, whilst looking at his hair from behind whilst his head was slowly dropping onto his chest, I thought of something funny, and so said –

"Hey Chris, have you been sleepwalking with getting dressed like that, or did you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and throw on whatever suited you from off your bedroom floor?"

Sian and Chrissie turned round at this, looked at Chris and burst out laughing when they saw him; Chris on the other hand perked his head right up, turned round and looked at me. He then rubbed his eyes, looked at me again, stood up and smiled at me before he said, "Kiara! How've you been?"

"Pretty good. How about you?"

"Not bad," he said as he walked towards me and hugged me tight. As he hugged me, I felt the spark that the Fates had used to unite us fuse together again, but slightly stronger this time. He was still holding me tight when fortunately Sian and Chrissie "coughed" hard. Chris then let me go and we both looked at Sian and Chrissie. They were both smiling in a rather smug way as Sian said, "Yeah, we're still here, you know." Chris blushed and sat back down as Chrissie turned back to the breakfast and Sian said to me, "Great little joke there, Kiara. And that's odd for me to say seeing as I'm usually the one to come up with the sarcastic comments and wise-cracks around here."

"Well, someone around here had to say something about his appearance sometime soon, S.D., and seeing as you or Chrissie weren't going to do it, I thought that I would have the pleasure of saying something about it."

"All right, you've all had a laugh at my appearance," Chris said in a sleepy state again. "Would you mind focussing on the breakfast rather than criticise me about how I look first thing in the morning? I'm going to change the moment I get back upstairs, OK?"

Sian and Chrissie looked at each other and nodded. Chris, seeing this and pleased with his sisters, closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. I was looking rather confusedly at him before Sian came to my rescue yet again and said, "You haven't lived with men for a long time in your life, have you, dear?"

I shook my head and Sian smiled and said, "Well let me let you in on a little secret that I know about men." We walked up to each other and she whispered in my ear, "Men are usually this grumpy in the morning, but once you put some food in front of them and they start to eat, they become more approachable and more alive." We both giggled at this for a few minutes before Sian went back to helping Chrissie with the breakfast and I stood there looking at the back of Chris' rumpled hair, which I thought looked pretty good.

After about five minutes, I started to hear footsteps, like people were coming towards us. Sian looked at the door and said, "Ah, good. The rest are of the nest are up and moving."

"Your other siblings?" I asked, excited now and wondering what they were going to be like.

"Oh, yes, they are coming now," she said, walking over to my side once more. "They won't be too long now, just listen."

"To what?"

Before Sian could answer my comment, we both heard a voice, "I HOPE THAT'S BREAKFAST THAT I SMELL AND NOTHING ELSE!" and I realised that that was the answer to my question. I looked at Sian for an explanation and with a grimace on her face she looked at me and explained, " _That_ my dear is Bethany, but she prefers Beth, one of my middle sisters. You are going to get a shock when you see her, and you always know when she is coming because she yells practically here, there and everywhere. Here she comes now."

I looked at the door as Sian did and was surprised by what I saw. She was _small_ – I mean, compared to the other siblings that I saw a few minutes later – she was a couple of feet smaller than the others. She looked like she was eight years old, if you can imagine an eleven year-old looking like that. She had more freckles on her face than the rest of the Dawsons' had; Sian had lots but they were very subtle (when she was younger you could see them) they blended in very nicely with her skin. Chrissie had lots all over her face too, but they were not as subtle and the rest were like Chrissie's freckles. But Beth looked like she had brown and red spots that were shining on them all over her face. She had her father's blue-grey eyes which looked warmly at me right now, but looked as though ice could come darting out of her eyes at you if you got on the wrong side of her and a round face, a small nose and bright red cheeks. She was small as I have said and skinny, but she was healthy and had long arms in comparison to her small legs. Beth had a round face, cherry lips and had long hair which was auburn, almost red.

"Good morning, Bethany," said Sian. "Being loud as usual, are we?"

"You know me, sister," she yelled.

"Beth, this is Kiara Pride-Lander," said Sian, giving me a pat on the back. I nervously smiled at her as she looked at me, and as she did so, she looked me up and down, jumped back in surprise when she saw my scar and practically screamed in my ear:

"Oh my God! Are you really! Sian's told us so much about you along with Chris and Chrissie! It's finally good to meet you!"

After she had finished screaming this stuff in my ear, I really didn't know if I had gone temporarily deaf or if my ear drums had just clogged up. Sian was rubbing one of her ears and was quietly muttering "Ow." We were saved from any more of her screaming by a voice which came through the door:

"Bethany, dear sister, how many times have myself and Sian told you that not only should you not yell unless it is a dangerous situation that you are in, but that you also shouldn't yell in people's ears like that? Not only do people not like it when you do that, but you can also hurt a lot of people's ears that way, too."

Beth turned to her twin sister (as I soon discovered) took a deep breath and spoke in a much lower, calmer and nicer pitched voice, "Sorry, Kest."

"That's quite all right, dear one, but you know, you really should learn to keep the volume of your voice under control." This girl was almost as tall as Sian was and she spoke with a soft voice which had a slight authoritative tone to it, but spoke with a soothing calmness which had a certain wisdom to it. She was willowy and skinny, and she stood with her hands just under her breasts, her fingers just touching and her breathing was controlled; she gave off a feeling of complete calm and could make a room feel calm in a matter of moments – or feel as though a storm was about to blow, given what type of mood she's in. She had a long face, a small nose, rosy cheeks, ocean coloured eyes which looked calm as a summer's day at the beach, and could look like a thunder storm at sea was coming if you got on the wrong side of her and a warming smile, like all the Dawsons' have. She had the same caramel coloured hair as her mother, which ended in the same _natural_ curls as her mother's – which makes sense, seeing as not only is her mother wise, but Sian actually used the end of her hair staighteners to curl her hair like Crighton's because she wanted to look so much like her. She turned to face me as soon as she had finished having a few words with Beth and smiled a calm smile.

"Kiara Pride-Lander, I presume?" she asked me in her soothing voice. I nodded and her smile widened. "I must say, Kiara, it is a pleasure to have you staying with us."

"Thank you," I said. "I'm glad to see your home at last and it's nice to have a welcome that doesn't involve screaming."

This girl chuckled and said, "Don't mind Beth so much, Kiara. She calms down after a while, but you'll get used to her as time goes on." She then turned to Sian and said, "Rescue mission go all right then, Sian?"

"Better than expected, Kestrel, I must admit." The two sisters smiled at each other and then Kestrel led Beth to her seat. I turned my attention back to the door as something like a human-sized bullet came bursting through the door, did a front flip down the stairs and landed on her feet in front of us. I was rather taken aback by this and looked at her, stunned, but Sian – who had obviously dealt with this before – sighed, put her head in one of her hands and said;

"Merida, how many times have I had to tell you, not only must you not do that stuff _inside_ the house, but you must also keep from doing your Kung-Fu Fighting until _after_ breakfast is over?"

"Sorry, sister. It's just that I get really pumped up when I wake up."

"Sister, you are always pumped up from the moment you get up until the time you go to sleep at night. It's just like Chrissie with food, 'cause she can never get enough of it. Now before you do anything else, say hello to Kiara."

She did a double take and smiled at me and held out her hand. We shook hands and she gave me a rather firm and tight hand shake before she sat down. She was tall and skinny like the rest of the Dawsons' and hair that was wavy like Chrissie's and so dark a shade of brown it was almost black, like Sian's. She had a long face, a small nose and rosy cheeks, round, excited blue-grey eyes and a warm smile. I turned to Sian for an explanation for these three. When she saw my expression, she quickly explained who they were.

"Beth is one of my middle sisters, Kiara, who is a very loud and shouty mouth as you've probably guessed. Kestrel is her twin sister, though you would never guess it like me and Chrissie, who is calm and wise and can make you feel relieved of whatever troubles you have on you just by being in the same room as you, and Merida – or Merry if you prefer – is the youngest and last of my sisters who is incredibly brave, and that bravery is quite foolish."

"Why?"

"Because, Kiara, when Merida grows up, she wants to fight dragons." As soon as she said this, I could not help but burst out laughing, but seeing how serious she looked, I stopped. I quickly apologised, but she brushed my apology away with her hand and said, "Don't worry about it, Kiara. It's natural to laugh at something that crazy."

"So she _really_ is serious about _fighting_ dragons?" I asked her incredulously.

"Oh yes, Kiara, she's deadly serious."

"Haven't you or your parents tried to talk her out of it?"

"Why of _course_ we've tried to talk her out of it, Kiara! But then again she 's still young, with a great deal to learn and a great deal of the world to see, and hopefully some experiences from the world along with the harsh realities of life will be able to form her mind in a much better frame of mind by the time she finishes school and will be able to pick a much more suitable career for herself." She must have heard heavy footsteps because she said, "Ah, here come the boys."

I looked at the door as Sian did and I saw two identical twin boys, identical in every aspect of their appearance and minds. They were the exact same height and weight and they had the same hair, dark brown hair that was almost black and which gently waved, which explained why they liked their fringes which were bushy. They had long faces, blue-grey eyes, long noses and they often wore concentrated looks because of all the work they did, but their expressions could often become soft and gentle or angry or on fire given what mood that they were in. only one difference was between them; Jack had his mother's emerald green eyes, whereas Joe had his father's blue-grey eyes They were wearing what looked like lab coats for dressing gowns over their pyjamas and identical scarves which had what looked like knuts, bolts, wires and all sorts of other gadget and electronic stuff all over them, with a few spaces left for their fingers to hold them, because as I found out later on, the boys had actually sewed the real stuff onto the scarves.

"These are the Tweebs, Kiara – oh, tweebs is a mixture of the words twins and dweebs," Sian explained by the puzzled look on my face. "But if you really want to know their names, they are Jack and Joe, the genius' of the family, besides myself (not that I like to brag). They don't say much, but they make up for it in the work they do. Kid, if there is ever a gadget that you want making, talk to these two; they know what they're doing and they can make anything you want them to. Tweebs," she said turning to the boys, "this is Kiara Pride-Lander."

The boys smiled at me and the one on the left said, "It's an honour to meet you, Kiara, and we hope you will like it here and will find our home pleasant to you."

"Thank you," I said, and smiled at them in return. They went over to the table and sat down, feeling the sheets of paper in their pockets which as Sian told me later on were the countless inventions that they were in the process of creating, but they didn't like to discuss or share their ideas at the table; they were too into keeping secrets and they didn't want to share their ideas with anyone – including their own siblings – just in case anyone stole their ideas and sold them to other companies. So paranoid, just like other typical genius'.

The door opened once more and in came two twin boys who were not related to the Dawsons' whatsoever; I could tell because the Dawsons were white skinned, but these two boys were brown – or to put it straight, they are black, because they are still alive. They were both the same in height, had the same coloured eyes, the same faces and the same black hair that came to their shoulders and was wavy, but they had their differences; the one on the left had a rather dim, sort of slow expression on his face that was more apparent when you looked in his eyes, whereas the one on the right had a more up-to-date expression on his face, which means that he is always right on the point and doesn't need things spelling out to him like his brother does. I turned to Sian for an explanation as to who they were and how they came to be in their home.

"Kiara, allow me to introduce you to Ben and Dave Simmers. A few years ago, their parents had some relationship difficulties and started to neglect their children." She nodded to Ben and Dave. "Anyhoo, to cut a long story short, their parents ended up getting a divorce and the boys were put into care together. Then our parents fostered them, and they are quite the perfect match to our rather mixed-up bunch of siblings. Boys," she said, turning to Ben and Dave, "this is Kiara Pride-Lander?"

The one with the dim expression on his face jumped up as if he had just got a wake-up call and said, "Whoa! Are you really?"

His brother who had studied me carefully and had focussed on my scar for a few minutes after he had first stepped in through the door, to my relief then turned to his brother and said, "Of course she is, Ben. Can't you see the scar in the middle of her forehead?"

Ben looked at me carefully for a few moments as his gaze slowly landed on my forehead, gazed at me with that rather stupid expression of his and, as if suddenly coming back to reality, caught up with me and said, "Wow, you really are Kiara Pride-Lander!" at which Dave gave his brother a look which clearly said, "There it is!" and then rolled his eyes to the ceiling in a sarcastic way which made me think of what Sian would often do to Chrissie.

Dave then turned to me and said, "Welcome to our home, Kiara. We all hope that you will enjoy it here."

"Thanks," I said. "I'm sorry about what happened between you and your parents. It must have been tough for you."

Dave heaved a large sigh and said, "It was rather difficult, but our parents didn't beat us up and the Dawsons have been really nice to us and have made us feel like we belong as a part of their family, despite the fact that we look nothing like each other." Then he and Ben went to join the others standing behind the table.

"They kind of remind me of you and Chrissie," I said, turning to Sian.

Sian nodded and said, "Yes, a lot of people say that, but before you say anything, I love them both as my brothers, nothing more, nothing less. I mean, Dave's great and all, but him and Merida look better together than we do; and I could tell because when they first saw each other, their eyes sparkled, and I knew – as do the rest of our family, _including_ Dave and Merry – that they are going to be together someday."

"And Ben and Chrissie?"

"Well, as to Ben and Chrissie, no one can really tell, because they are both as slow as each other that it could very well take until the day they both die to figure out how they feel about each other." We both chuckled at this, but were interrupted by a shout from the girl we were just talking about.

"Sian, the breakfast's ready!" Chrissie shouted, putting everyone on the alert, for as soon as she shouted this, the siblings rushed over towards the door leading to the garden and Merida grabbed a stop-watch from the wall.

"You'd best get over there too, kid," said Sian as she went towards Chrissie to help her out. I looked at Chrissie, who nodded in agreement, and then I went to join the others. As soon as I got over to the garden door, Sian and Chrissie looked at Merida, who pressed the timer on the stop-watch, and the fun began.

Sian and Chrissie started to race around the kitchen like mad women; a toast rack was put into the middle of the table by Chrissie as Sian flung the toast at certain angles so that it fit perfectly into the rack, then Sian got the sausages and Chrissie got the bacon and they moved in different directions around the table, putting the food on to the plates, and when she was done with the sausages, Sian got the beans and poured them on to the plates (the father's seat was left empty until he came home. They would heat something up for him when he came through the door). As this was going on, Chrissie ran over to the fridge and took out the jam, marmalade and butter and placed them on the table, along with a bottle of ketchup; then Sian got the glasses as Chrissie turned to her, and as Sian threw them, Chrissie placed them besides the plates, and to finish off, the girls grabbed the crystal juice jugs – one filled with orange juice, the other with summer fruits – and placed them on either side of the toast rack. Both out of breath, Sian and Chrissie jumped away from the table, their job done. I should mention that as this was all happening, the rest of the Dawsons were cheering Sian and Chrissie on; I was both shocked and impressed, for I had never in my life seen breakfast made quite like that before.

"Time!" they both shouted, as Merida pressed the stopper on the stop-watch.

Merida looked at the watch, looked up and said, "Two minutes, twenty-nine seconds, guys. Sorry."

Sian, Chrissie and the others all went "Awww, man!" and shook their heads and began to move to the table. I said to Sian, "Why do you guys do that?"

"Well, we like to challenge ourselves because it gets us pumped up and we like to see how far we can test our limits." I nodded at this, and we all went to sit down and tuck in to breakfast. But before we could do that, Sian said, "Wait!"

The other siblings looked at Sian with the same look that clearly said, "Now what?", and I didn't blame them, for I was also very hungry like the rest of them.

"Sorry you guys," Sian said, "it's just that I want you to move Max's chair from where it is beside our mother to the end where our father sits for Kiara. After all, seeing as Max isn't living here any more, it does seem appropriate, doesn't it?" They nodded, and Max's chair was moved so that I could sit, at which we all sat down.

On the other side of the table directly opposite to me was Sian then – heading down the line – was Chrissie, then Chris, Beth, Kestrel, and Merida sat at the bottom by the mother's chair, then on my side coming up sat Joe, Jack, Ben, Dave and me. But I noticed that there was a space missing at the bottom, and I guessed that was where Max sat. I wondered what happened to him, so, out of pure curiosity, I turned to Sian and asked this;

"Sian, where is your brother Max? I mean, what happened to him? Where is he now?"

At this, the hubbub that came from the chinking of knives and forks and the talking that was happening died instantly. Everyone looked uncomfortably at one-another, before all eyes turned slowly and rather reluctantly to Sian who, with slightly trembling hands, put down her knife and fork which rattled as they touched the plate.

She turned her head up to face me after a few minutes, took a deep breath and said, "The reason my youngest brother isn't here Kiara is because a few years ago, he almost did something terrible to someone in this family, and because of his actions he was taken to a care home where he lives now. I know that the person he hurt does not keep in touch with him for obvious reasons, but also because their heart has hardened against them, and will never receive them as a brother anymore, no matter what happens." As she said this, a dark look came over her which chilled my heart slightly, but a chink of cutlery soon brought us out of that dark moment and we all put it behind us and tucked in to our breakfast. I might as well add here that I thought at that moment that she was talking about herself, but I wasn't too sure about that point until five years later.

For the next few minutes after that, breakfast was a pretty subdued affair; no one was looking at each other or talking to each other. Each of us was focussed on our own plates and thoughts. It was rather uncomfortable, especially if you had someone like Sian sitting opposite you, whose hands trembled and shook the plate every time she cut something. I took a look at her: she was very pale and looked like she was about to cry at any moment, but she was obviously eating as fast as she could so that she could get out of there and cry on her own where no one would see her. She was a private person, after all.

It went on like this for a few minutes as I just said and all our plates were nearly clean, but I was glad the uncomfortable air ended when Sian dropped her knife and fork, lifted up her head like a cork shot straight out of a bottle and then whipped her head to the kitchen door. Everyone looked at her expectantly, for the blood had returned to her face, and instead of a dark and upset look that almost leapt out of her eyes, an excited look had now come over them.

"What's up, S.D.?" Chris asked her hesitantly.

"It's Dad. He's home." And before any of us could say "No, he's not", we – and I include myself in that – heard a familiar voice call "Morning, Dawsons!" to which the Dawsons including Chris, Ben and Dave all cried out, "Morning, Dad!"

Sian and Chrissie immediately jumped out of their seats and turned to each other. "Chrissie, get Dad's coffee ready whilst I heat up what's left of the breakfast. You know he likes my cooking just as much as he likes to taste your coffee." They then rushed to the end of the kitchen where the stove and kettle was and bustled about getting everything ready.

"Someone mind getting the milk for me, please?" Chrissie called, at which Merida jumped up and ran to the fridge, opened the door, grabbed the milk and took it to Chrissie before putting it back into the fridge after Chrissie had done with it.

I thought the breakfast would have been cold by now, but it turns out that it wasn't as cold as I thought it was for it was reheated within five minutes (I've learned over the years that the Dawsons possess many secrets, some of which Sian has with cooking if that gives you a clue) and placed on the table before their father's chair, with his coffee next to the plate and a smaller plate filled with toast was put behind the main food plate. After they had done this, Chrissie sat back down, whilst Sian stood up to await Mr Dawson.

As soon as Chrissie had sat back down, the kitchen door opened and the man of the house walked in. he was still the same; curly brown hair that was growing steadily grey (a little more than the last time I saw him), the same goatee, the same kid-like smile, the same blue-grey eyes and the same amount of weight around the middle. As soon as they saw their father, everyone smiled and a cheerier air filled the room. He smiled to each of his children before his eyes settled on Sian, at which a proud expression passed over his features as he walked towards his eldest daughter, with his arms opened in welcome.

"Ah, here she is. Our shining star. Our guardian angel." They hugged, and as they did so, I saw the rest of the siblings roll their eyes; _clearly they've seen this too many times before_ , I thought. I looked at Mr Dawson and Sian as they let go of each other.

"Hi, Dad," she answered in reply to this, blushing as she let go. "So, how was work?"

"Oh, you may very well ask, my darling," the old man sighed as he sat down in his chair to eat and Sian sat next to him (the rest had continued eating). "What a night! Nine raids, Siany –" the nickname that she allowed only her parents to use on her "– _nine_!"

"Raids?" I asked, turning to Chrissie for an explanation.

"Our father works for the Ministry of Magic, Kiara," Chrissie explained after she had finished eating the bit of sausage that she had in her mouth. "He works in the most exciting department of all, the Auror – Dark Wizard Catcher, in English – Department. But it's really Muggles that he has a strong hobby for. He's fascinated with them."

I turned back to Sian and her father as Chrissie turned back to eating, but instead of conversation about work, I found Mr Dawson looking at me with a surprised smile on his face.

"My word, Kiara! I never thought I'd be seeing your face around here any time soon!" We shook hands and smiled. "How are you, my dear girl?"

"Pretty good, sir. And yourself?"

"Not so bad. Did the rescue mission go all right, then?" he said, turning to Sian and starting to eat.

"Better than expected, Dad. Oh, Ma already left before you turned up, but she asked me to give you her love." He nodded as he ate.

After a few moments, Sian asked, "How was it last night?"

Mr Dawson sighed and said, "It's been a rough night for us at the Ministry."

"Has it really been that bad, Dad?" asked Sian.

"You have no idea, love. Potter's been driving me mad all night that I can't wait to get to bed."

We all gasped and Sian said, "Dad, don't you dare say a word against Harry. It's thanks to him that we are out of the mess with Voldemort. I mean, can you imagine what sort of world we'd be living in if he was alive and Harry wasn't?"

"Sian's right, Dad," Chris said suddenly, looking a lot more wide awake now that he was eating. "I mean, I know he's giving you a hard time and all, but he's just doing his job; and if he had died, we certainly wouldn't be here right now, that's for sure."

We all nodded in agreement at this and Mr Dawson nodded his head and said, "You're right, son. You're absolutely right." Then he turned back to me and said, "Now then, Kiara, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, sir. Anything."

"Well, answer me this," he said after washing down some coffee, "what exactly is the function of a rubber duck?"

As soon as he had asked that question, everyone slowly looked at Mr Dawson and then back at each other confused, and I didn't blame them, for I was confused, too. After a few minutes, Sian had the nerve to ask the question that all of us wanted to but were too scared to say:

"Dad, who on earth cares what the exact job of a rubber duck is? I mean, who seriously spends every day of their lives wondering what the job of a rubber duck does." At this, we all laughed and Mr Dawson had to agree that she was right. The mood in the kitchen was less tense again and we enjoyed the rest of breakfast in peace, talking and laughing.

After we had all finished breakfast, we placed our dishes in the sink, which Sian said that she would wash later. After that, Mr Dawson went to get some sleep and said he wouldn't be down until dinner. I followed Sian and the rest back through the kitchen door and along the ancestry corridor to the bedrooms, I guessed at the time, to which my answer was right, because the rest of the Dawsons were still in their pyjamas. As we were walking along, Sian saw the back of Chris' head and yelled, "Rickers, when you get upstairs, you are combing your hair."

"All right, sister, all right."

"To be fair, Chris, I like your hair like that," I said to him.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it looks cooler like that." He turned round, gave me a cute smile of gratitude, turned back round and continued walking on with a slight spring in his step.

We continued walking along the long corridor which we were walking to get to the bedrooms, and as we walked along, I noticed that the siblings were talking and were louder than usual, but I guessed this was because it was after breakfast and they had woken up a bit more. Sian and I were the only ones who weren't talking, but for two different reasons; I was focussing on listening to the rather animated discussions, whereas Sian was shaking her head and thinking of many thoughts as we got to the spiral staircase that I had seen earlier when I first walked through the door. Sian turned to me and said that my room was up these stairs too, so I followed her up them.

At the top of the staircase, the banister ended in a curl and we were standing on a red velvet rug, which covered a wood panelled floor. To my left I saw half a dozen large windows that were split in grids, with window seats attached and the curtains pulled to the sides to let the light in. To my right I saw a bunch of doors that stretched along the corridor which we were in the middle of, which were where the Dawsons' rooms were, because I saw them enter through their doors. I started to walk to the right, when Sian held my arm and started to walk me in the other direction. She pointed me to a door which was right between a glossy, skyblue door, which I guessed to be Sian's room, and a scratched and old forest green door, which I guessed to be Chrissie's room. The door between these two was mine; I could tell because the door was new and painted sunshine gold.

I turned to Sian who nodded at me to go on in, which I did. I opened the door and gasped in surprise at what I saw. I couldn't help it, it was beautiful: the walls were painted the exact same shade of sunshine gold as the door was, and there were pictures and portraits of rich, exotic flowers and woodland creatures in their natural environment, to remind me of my little cottage in southern Wales. The room also had an on-suite bathroom and a balcony which looked out on to the back garden. I looked at the four-poster bed with golden sheets and golden bed curtains covering them in the middle, with a turquoise carpet covering the floor. On the left of the room, were electronic Muggle things placed on a desk that I knew I would enjoy; a laptop, C.D. player, a television with a PS2 (after all, at this point in time, the year _was_ 2005) with a number of games they knew I would enjoy. On the right of the room where the on-suite bathroom was I saw a wardrobe, chest of drawers and a dressing mirror attached to a desk, with a leather-seated stool to match, all in mahogany. I stepped in to the middle of the room, and looked at Sian, stunned at the beauty of my room. Sian chuckled at the look on my face.

"I take it you like your room then, Kiara?" she asked teasingly, for she already knew my answer.

" _Like_ it? I _love_ it! Thank you!" I said, looking at all the cool stuff that was in the room.

"You're welcome, sweetie."

"So, what's with the colour of the room? And what about the internet costs?"

"Don't you worry about that, my dear girl. Our rooms all have individual colours and as for the internet costs, our parents pay for it, so you really don't have to worry about a thing."

"Really?"

Sian nodded and then said, "So Kiara, tell me, what do you think of our home?"

"I think that this is the most amazing house I've ever been in." Sian smiled a wide and grateful smile and then left me to be with my thoughts. She closed the door behind her as I turned to see my things by the balcony windows and began to unpack. And as I was sorting my clothes, I smiled, and had the feeling that I was going to like it a lot at that home; and as it turned out, I did.

0000

 **So, that's it for this chapter. I hope that you all really like the concept of the most dysfunctional family entire universe. Don't worry, there will be much more from the rest of the Dawson Clan still to come, never fear. I will be updating again soon, so in the meantime, please R &R, and I hope you are enjoying this story and will enjoy the rest of it, too. Thanks.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **At the Book Store**

 **KIARA**

The next few weeks spent at Dawson Manor were some of the happiest of my life. This house was far more interesting than any other place that I had been to, and that includes Dragon Mort. You can tell from this letter that I sent to my Grandmother Sarabi about three days after I had arrived at Dawson Manor:

 _Dear Grandmother Sarabi,_

 _I am missing you dearly even though it's been a few days since we said goodbye to each other, but things here are great; the Dawsons' are really nice to me and they all treat me with kindness and they are some of the nicest people that you could ever spend a long time with and not get bored with quickly. By that what I mean is that each of the Dawsons' personalities are so individual and so unique that it is a rather lively and bubbly atmosphere to live in. I love it!_

 _This house is incredible. I'm not going to describe every inch of it to you, because that would take for ever to describe, but they have a games room, a TV room, a music room, a performance room and so many more amazing rooms that I cannot even begin to describe to you. Even though they are siblings and do tend to get on each other's nerves, they actually make each other laugh a lot, and look like they enjoy a lot of time in each other's company. Their father is nice to me too, and he likes to talk to me about Muggle stuff. The man is literally obsessed with Muggles, it's insane, seriously._

 _I hope to see you on September 1_ _st_ _. and know this, even though I'm having a good time here, I really miss you._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Kiara_

The day after I had arrived at Dawson Manor, Sian gave me a tour of the grand house. The rooms above ours were just the bedrooms, and at the end of the corridor on the floor where the Dawsons' bedrooms were, two staircases led to their parents' studies, and above them were their parents' bedroom. The doors leading off from the ancestry corridor led to the games room, where they even had pool, a music room which was full of instruments and they even had a song book in there, which was full of score sheets of all their favourite songs (I have to say, the Dawsons really do have a good taste in music), a TV room with a giant flat screen TV and a DVD with surround sound with some great movies for us to watch, a room with a swimming pool with showers and diving boards, and many other rooms with lots of cool stuff in them.

The rooms on the other side of the Manor were brilliant also; they had a massive library, which was made up of both wizarding books and Muggle fiction. I was blown away by the size of the library, and how long the table was in the middle of the room. There was also a training room, which had gym equipment in it, along with punching bags and gymnastics equipment. I caught her one day working out, and let me tell you, she was good – _too good_ ; she was so good, that she could practically kick a guy in the head with her foot if she wanted to. She worked out in this room for an hour every day of the summer on her own, because she said that if anyone interrupted her during this time, she was sure to hit them, and I believed her.

There were a lot of rooms that were used as storage rooms, unused bedrooms and were rooms that were not really used for anything. But here's the thing; the attic at the top of the house was split into two attics; the bigger attic was used as a place to put all the stuff that they didn't use any more, like the family photo albums, old clothes and other stuff, but the other part of the attic was shut off, and I didn't know why. I asked Sian about it one day, and she told me that that attic was not used at all; but the fourth day after I had arrived, I saw Sian, Chris and Chrissie come down talking about _what happened in the attic_. They were hiding something from me, and I was going to find out what it was, and it didn't take me too long to find out, but more on that later on.

Anyhoo, when Sian was training, Chris, Chrissie, Merida, Ben, Dave and I played three-on-three Quidditch. It was great; me practising Quidditch, the greatest sport in the world which is played on broomsticks up in the air and playing with my friends, boy's vs girls. We had a lot of fun and I got to practise because I was on the Lion-Heart Quidditch team. I was a very good player: in my first year, I was made Seeker of the Lion-Heart Quidditch team and I was very proud to be a part of a team. Back to the point, we all had fun playing against each other, and Merida, Ben and Dave liked to see me play. Merida even told me that she knew what Chrissie and Chris were talking about when they said I was good.

The more I learned about the rest of the Dawson clan, the more I liked them, and even more importantly, I found out that they all liked me; Mr Dawson liked to have me close by him at the table every morning to talk about Muggle things and how they all worked, such as bus stops, the post office, computers and other things. Sian wanted me to eat at least three helpings of her cooking and she wanted to make sure that I was safe and happy every morning when I woke up and before I went to bed at night. Chris and Chrissie always liked to have me near them, Beth liked to shout a lot during the day – almost none-stop – which is where Kestrel came in to help her calm down her voice and her aura, Merida was seen to be practically bouncing around the place and taking her bow and arrows with her into the woods to practise shooting targets and every Saturday afternoon I would join her with this task, and Sian sometimes joined us, too; bangs, experiments and unusual noises were naturally heard coming from The Tweebs room – which Sian told me I would get used to soon enough – and they were seldom seen out of their room apart from meal times, Max's room was kept shut, and Ben and Dave were as unlike each other as Sian and Chrissie were. In the evening, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave asked me questions about where I came from and about me home, which I gladly answered.

Something weird happened with Sian too; sometimes a few times a week, day or night, she would nip out for a few minutes or sometimes hours, and when she came back she would be quite flustered and she would tell some of her brothers and sisters about what she had been up to in the world this time. Sometimes they would stop just short of me and they would break it up, I didn't know why then. I tried to ask, but all I would get from them was, "It's a secret," or, "Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies". So I didn't bother asking after about a week, though I still thought about what she was doing. I once over heard Beth talking to Kestrel about it as I was passing them, for she said, "… it sure is a good thing that G.J. and Ma have decided that Sian should only do it over the summer now, for we all know how important education is to Sian, as well as Ma." But when they saw me, they broke it off. This intrigued me still more, but I said nothing about it, thinking all the while that whatever this secret was, there must have been a time when Sian did whatever she did all the time, but her mother (nor Sian herself) wanted it to interrupt her studies (after all, this _is_ Sian we're talking about here!). I thought about what this big secret was when I was in bed, but I could make nothing of it. It was only until The Great Battle that I discovered what her secret was, but we'll get to that when it's time for me to tell it.

Sian told me that they were not like any other snobbish, uptight rich family who were madly in love with their money. They liked to help those less unfortunate than themselves and they didn't have any servants living with them to do stuff like the cleaning because their parents believed that seeing as their children were going to live out in the world some day, they would need some life lessons, so they did everything themselves – well, in reality it was Sian who did almost every chore in the house, except from cleaning up her siblings "handiwork" and their rooms. After all, as Sian once put it, the person that makes the mess around here has to clean it up. It was one of the many rules that their parents had come up with, which Sian agreed with.

They did have servants, though; the gardeners came every Saturday to take care of the garden and there were the cleaners who came every Saturday afternoon to clean the house and the rooms that were not in regular use, in case the Dawsons were expecting anyone who was not expected to come. Joey, on the other hand, was a different story; he lived towards the back of the house away from the rest of the family with his wife Maria and young child Alice. They were nice people who lived here practically as part of this great family and got to eat with us, too. Sian had often told Joey off for smoking his pipe at the table and told him to smoke it in front of his own fireplace. Joey was allowed to stay with the family because he had once saved Mr Dawson's life from something, and therefore he had stayed with the family for the past twenty years as their chauffeur. Anyhoo, Sian had to go out every Wednesday afternoon to get the shopping done, and as for the Dawsons doing some good for those less fortunate than themselves, they donated a bit of their savings to ST Mungo's hospital, which I thought was a great thing to do. After seeing this, I thought to myself, _"no matter what happens, if I live well and long enough, I'm going to help others less unfortunate than myself, because I know I've had a hard life, but that does not mean that there are not others who are suffering, too"._ And I have kept that promise to this day, and I am not going tog give that up until I die, but you'll have to wait until book seven to hear more about that, sorry.

Anyway, I also learnt that the Dawsons' had a night specifically directed to an activity; Monday night was TV Dinner Night, Tuesday night was directed to the family to do whatever they wanted to do, Wednesday night was directed to a Film Night, Thursday night was another night to do whatever we wanted to do, Friday night was directed to watching comedy TV, Saturday night was when we gathered in the music room and had a Sing and Music Night, where we sang and played instruments, and I found out that Sian played a lot of musical instruments (she was particularly talented at the piano and acoustic guitar) and she was also a rather brilliant singer; I mean, the rest of the family could sing, but none could sing like Sian could. And Sunday night was saved for the family to get together in the Drawing Room and have a Family Talk Night, when we would talk about what happened in our lives during the week. I loved their family. I still do. Tuesday's and Thursday's I would be often painting, drawing and sketching or just hanging out with Sian, Chris and Chrissie. Everyone was nice to me and I don't think that I had ever met a rather odd bunch of people who lived under one roof in my entire life, who also happened to make me laugh on many occasions, and I made them laugh in return. Even though I had only been there a few weeks, I already felt like I belonged as one of their family, and it felt great, because I felt accepted by all of them.

Oh, I forgot to mention something else that was in this grand house – they have a garden on top of the house, too. It's underneath the attic, where a long bit of marble stretches over a long bit of the house; it even passes a bit over the front. I think it might even be the roof of the house but what do I know. Anyhoo, this terrace was filled with beautiful flowers of all different colours: there were roses, pansies, petunias, lilies, forget-me-nots, orchids, daffodils, tulips, blue bells, lavenders, violets, jasmines and many more. They were in potted plants around the edge of the roof and some were up in flower baskets. The scents of all the different flowers were stunning to the senses. It was wonderful because not only was the smell from the flowers fantastic, but the view was amazing. It was a truly beautiful and secluded place, and one which you would love to come up to after a stressful day. I used to come up here with Sian a few Tuesday's and Thursday's and sometimes we wouldn't even talk to each other; sometimes we would just sit in peace and harmony. Magical!

One thing really puzzled me, though; I knew Sian was cold, but often when her siblings would do something that annoyed her, she would yell at them and make the atmosphere in the room intense, and she would do this often. It was usually a rather nice and happy atmosphere at Dawson Manor, until Sian started to yell at her siblings, became cold and distant with the rest of us and then it would all blow over when Sian would say something to lighten the mood, and it would pass. Everyone just went along with it like it was the normal routine around here, and even though I went along with it, deep down, it still bugged me. I wanted to know, but was too afraid to ask, until the morning when the letters from Dragon Mort came.

It was three weeks after I had first arrived at Dawson Manor. Mr Dawson was sitting down at the table when me, Chris and Chrissie entered. Sian was putting the breakfast on the plates as per usual and we had passed the others' doors on our way down, and we heard noises like stretching and yawning coming from behind them, so we knew that they were getting up. Just as the others were coming down and myself, Chris and Chrissie were seating ourselves, and as Sian had just finished placing the breakfast on the table, we all heard a distant bang, which made me jump and everyone else just remained motionless. _They've clearly heard this too many times before to be shocked by it now_ , I thought, and I was right, for Sian said, "Arrol!", and Chrissie jumped up and said, "I'll get it for you", and ran out of the room.

"Thank you, Chrissie," Sian yelled as Chrissie ran from the room.

"Who's Arrol?" I asked Sian as she sat down.

Sian shook her head and said, "He's our family owl, Kiara, and he's ancient. He's the only rubbish thing we've got in the whole house. And as I keep telling you, Dad," she said as she turned to face her father, "we desperately need a new family owl."

Mr Dawson put down his cup of coffee and said to his dear eldest daughter, "And as I've told you before, my darling, I'll get a new family owl when the time is right."

"Dad, you say that every year, and yet we _still_ have the same old useless family owl, who ends up getting lost and bangs into everywhere he lands. Honestly, the only reason we still have him is because you have a rather abysmal memory; and furthermore, you only remember what's really important, and anything that's rather small and insignificant to our family's needs, you simply push it to the back of your mind, and don't think about it until you get to it later or if a certain _someone_ around here mentions it to you as a constant reminder of what you have to do."

Mr Dawson sighed and said, "Ah, Sian, you're an annoying nagging woman, just like your mother before you."

"And proud to be, too," Sian said, nodding as she said too, and before she could tuck in to her breakfast, Chrissie came rushing back in, a bunch of letters in her hand.

"I've taken care of Arrol," was the first thing she said to us.

"Good. And the letters?" Sian asked her.

"Oh, right, yeah. I forgot about them."

Sian did a double-take of the head and looked at her sister incredulously. "Sister, how could you forget when they've been in your hand this whole time?" at which, Chrissie shrugged her shoulders.

"It looks like your father's not the only one with a bad memory around here, is it, S.D.?" I asked. Everyone snorted into their bacon at this, apart from Chrissie, who looked rather hurt at what I had just said.

"Good one, Kiara," Sian whispered to me, winking. Then she turned, saw Chrissie looking on the verge of tears and the rest still chuckling and said, "All right, you lot, that's enough. Chrissie's is getting upset." She then stood up, hugged her sister, and must have whispered some words of comfort, for Chrissie was taking deep breaths and was nodding and smiling slightly as Sian let her go. Chrissie handed the letters to Sian, and then sat down, brushing off some slight tears that had come to her.

I felt bad about what I had said, so I turned to Chrissie and said, "Hey, Chrissie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about what I said. I was only teasing."

"That's OK, Kiara. I forgive you." We smiled, and looked at Sian, who was looking at me alone with a proud smile on her face. Then she turned to her sibling with a rather cold look in her eyes and an expression on her face which, as her siblings looked at her confused, seemed to say "go on". So then the rest of the Dawsons turned to Chrissie and apologised, too. Sian nodded at this, apparently satisfied with what she saw, and began to open up the envelope.

When she opened the envelope, Sian said to us, "The Dragon Mort letters have finally arrived!" She then took them out of the envelope and said, "Take the letter when I call your name. OK let's see, this one's mine," she said as she took her letter and placed it on the table, "Chrissie … Chris … Beth –"

"Wait, you're staring this year, too?" I asked Beth as she took her letter.

Beth looked rather annoyed at this and said, "Why do people always act that way around me?" then she put her head in her arms, whilst Kestrel patted her on the back.

"Sorry, Beth, I didn't mean to offend you," I said, shocked that she had taken what I said this badly.

Kestrel smiled at me kindly and said, "Don't worry about it, Kiara. Many people make the same mistake when they first see her because she's smaller than everyone else, you see. Tell me, when you first looked at Beth, how old did you assume she was?"

"About eight, why?"

"Ah, that's what everyone says," said Kestrel, nodding her head sympathetically. "She may look eight, but in reality she is eleven."

"Really?" I asked, shocked. Then I turned to Beth. "Sorry about that, Beth. Forgive me. I'm new here and I didn't know, so don't go too hard on yourself or me. Please?" I smiled at her as she raised her head. She looked at me and then, slowly, she seemed to smile and nod.

Kestrel nodded herself before she turned to Sian and said, "Now then, sister, my letter if you please?" Sian passed Kestrel her letter before she turned back to the envelope and was surprised at what she saw, for she said, "Oh, Kiara, they've sent us yours, as well." She passed mine to me before she sat down and started to read her letter.

"Susan must know you're here then, Kiara," said Mr Dawson to me.

"Of course she does, Dad," said Sian without looking up from her letter. "After all, you know what Ma's like as well as I do; she practically knows all, sees all and hears everything that happens around this place. Furthermore, I've been in touch with her every Saturday through the phone and seeing as she was here when Kiara and me arrived the first day and she must have told Miss D where Kiara is now." Sian then read her letter and gasped a rather hissing, awful gasp as she finished off reading it.

"What is it, Siany?" Mr Dawson asked, looking up from his plate and holding out his hand for the letter.

Sian handed over the letter and said, "I just wonder if we have enough savings in the bank to cover up all our books this year. I mean, Gold's books alone don't come cheap."

Mr Dawson's cheeks went a little red at this and he said, "Not _the_ Giselle Gold?"

"That's what it says on the parchment, Dad. Al her books are needed for this year. For _all_ of us, I take it?" Chris, Chrissie, Beth and Kestrel nodded. Sian turned back to her father, whose face was now as red as a tomato.

I turned to Chrissie for an explanation. Chrissie explained, "Oh, Dad has a massive crush on her."

"Chrissie, that's not true," Mr Dawson said, although his face gave the lie away at once.

"So Dad, do you still love Ma, then, or are you in love with this woman for her looks?" Merida joked. None of the Dawsons' took this as a joke, not even me. The Dawsons' looked at Merida shocked, bits of food dangling off their knives and forks; and Mr Dawson's face had just blanched.

"Merida, how can you _say_ such a thing?" gasped Sian.

"Indeed, Merida, for your mother and I love each other dearly, and therefore, you should not joke about such things."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Merida replied softly, looking down at her plate and not daring to look at any of us, "I was just –"

"I know, sweetie, I know," Mr Dawson said softly to his youngest daughter, "but next time you think about things before you say them, yes?" He looked at Merida questioningly, until she nodded, and then he went back to eating.

"But seriously, Dad," said Sian, "I'm curious here: what is it exactly that you like about her?"

Mr Dawson went bright red again as he said, "Well, I just think that she is a nice looking young woman, that's all."

"So, you only like her because of her beauty, is that it?" Sian asked pointedly; and when he didn't reply, that gave us all an answer, to which me and the rest of the Dawson sisters all sighed and shook our heads and the boys all nodded and muttered their agreements.

"Honestly, why do all men only see women for their pleasing physical appearances and faces first, instead of taking the time to search what their personalities are really like, and therefore should judge them that way, instead of relying for the face to tell all that you need to know!?" Sian exclaimed, and I wasn't the only one around the table who nodded in agreement with this, after a while. "I mean, it's all well and good if your studying to see what is inside a person – and don't get me wrong, I know that women also do it to men, also – but I just think that the character inside a person should be judged before you get to see what the body looks like in its true form."

She turned her face to the boys as she finished this little speech of hers, and the boys looked at the table. Mr Dawson nodded his head and said, "You're right, Siany, as always. We should learn that looks are not always everything to those of us who have love in our hearts to give in this world, and we should know better than to think otherwise."

"Thank you, Daddy," Sian said, smiling as she sat back down. Before she tucked into her breakfast, she looked at me and said, "Kiara, are you going to read your letter, or are you just going to hold it in your hand all day?"

I jumped as she said this for I had completely forgotten about the letter until she mentioned it, but I pulled it off with a nervous giggle and read my letter, which told me that I was to get the subs from Dover on September the first. There was also – as has already been briefly mentioned – a new set of books for the coming year.

 _Second- year students will require:_

 _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by_ Miranda Goshawk

 _The Banshee Break_ _by_ Giselle Gold

 _Chilling with Ghouls_ _by_ Giselle Gold

 _Hanging with Hags_ _by_ Giselle Gold

 _Travelling with Trolls_ _by_ Giselle Gold

 _Voyage with the Vampire_ _by_ Giselle Gold

 _Years with the Yetis_ _by_ Giselle Gold

 _Wandering with the Werewolf Pack_ _by_ Giselle Gold

"So, Dad, do we have enough money to buy al the books for our family this year, along with new robes and other things that Beth and Kest will need?" Sian asked her father imploringly. "After all, five lots of Gold's books don't come cheap, you know."

"Ah, don't you fret about that. We'll manage, never you fear."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Siany, relax. We have enough money saved up in the bank, and I've got the day off today, so that means we can go today."

"Well, that's settled, then," Sian said, clapping her hands together. "There's only one place we're going to get all this, then: Brickabon Alley."

"Yes!" yelled many of the siblings around the table, as they all started talking excitedly about some forbidden place in Brickabon Alley, but this must have been another thing which the Dawsons' must have argued over many times before, for Sian stood up at that moment and said, "No! We've been over this time and time again and I repeat that no one in this family is going down Dark Avenue!"

Most of the Dawsons' started to argue – except from Chrissie, Chris, Beth, Kestrel, Joe and Jack – saying things like, "That's rubbish!" and "That's not fair!" There was much more things like this said, until Sian turned to her father and gave him a rather demanding look which seemed to me to say, "Well, are you going to take charge of your family or not?" Mr Dawson looked at his eldest daughter for a few seconds, then sighed, put down his knife and fork, stood up and said –

"Kids, listen to your eldest sister! Your mother and I have worked hard to create our home a safe and happy environment for your all, which your sister here –" touching Sian's shoulder "– has gladly agreed to follow these past few many years in order to keep you lot safe and to keep your mother's and mine minds at rest whilst we are at work. Also there is the fact that our family has been against the Dark Arts for many a year now, and we are not about to change sides now."

"But, Dad –" Merida, Ben and Dave started, but Sian got the better of them before her father could interrupt.

"No buts, no ifs, no nothings. None of us are going to step down Dark Avenue, and that's an order. Now sit down and eat your breakfast." Merida, Ben and Dave sat back down, looking grumpily at their food and stuffing it resentfully in their faces. Like on the day that I arrived here, breakfast was a subdued affair after that, and we were all glad when it was over so that we could leave the table. After we had done, the Dawsons all got up from the table and when they were heading up the stairs, Sian turned to her father and said to him –

"Dad, you do know that I am your daughter, don't you?"

"Of course I do, my darling."

"Well then, I would rather appreciate it that whilst you are at home that you would act like a father to them and me, instead of relying on me to be the parent for this family as always, until I become a parent myself." Then she turned on her heel and left the room. Mr Dawson sighed and turned to the counter, shaking his head as he did so. He didn't turn round to face me, and seeing as I needed an explanation for Sian's behaviour, I had to ask him.

"Mr Dawson?"

He jumped and looked at me, and then put one hand over his heart. "Merlin's beard, Kiara! I didn't expect anyone else to be sitting here! I thought you'd have gone with the others!"

"I'm going to follow shortly, don't worry. But I thought I would ask you something first."

"Well, by all means, my dear girl. I'm all ears."

"It's about Sian."

"What about her, Kiara?" he asked me, suddenly apprehensive.

"Well, why is she so stern and cold around her family every now and again?"

"Is that all?" he asked me, a look of relief spreading over his face. I nodded, and he sighed and said, "Well Kiara, I must admit that even though she may seem cold, strict and firm, but she really does care about her family, even though she doesn't show it sometimes."

"But if that's true, why is she so strict around them?"

"Because she has to be, Kiara," he replied. "You see, whilst her mother and I have been working, Sian has always been the one to take care of her family and from other experiences in her life – don't ask me what experiences now – they have made her into a pretty strong and yet quite a frosty person. She has to be cold, strict and firm around her family because she is the only one around here who has to take charge and control of her siblings and myself because she is the only one, besides her mother, who can. In her own right, Sian is kind of like a mother, young as she is."

"And yet you let her speak to you like that? Like she's an adult already. Why do you do that?"

He chuckled and said, "I let Sian speak to me like that, because I see her as her mother in a way, both in looks and mind, for they do have a lot in common in the mind. Have you ever seen them close together, Kiara?"

"Only briefly, sir. Not for a very long time."

"Well, the next time you see them together in one room, pay close attention to them. I can't really explain the bond between them – even they can't – but I'll tell you this, it is not only a beautiful relationship that they share, but there never was a mother and a daughter who was as close to each other than they two are. Remember that."

"Noted," I said to myself. I then spoke to Mr Dawson and said, "But back to the point, if you please, sir; why do you let Sian speak to you like that? And why is she like an adult, young as she is?"

"I let Sian speak to me like that because she is practically an adult and is like a mother to her siblings as I've already said, and that's why she is like an adult. After all, me and her mother have said that she is like a child who is trapped inside a child's body."

"But why does she act like that?"

"She acts like that, because when she was a child, something terrible almost happened to her that altered the course of her life for ever. After that day, her childhood was wiped out of her for ever. From that day on, me and her mother have put her through vast amounts of training and she has been through a lot has Sian from this training, so that her siblings, and in time others, too, didn't have to suffer the same fate – or death – that Sian almost suffered all those years ago. The next time you look in her eyes, look deep into them and you may see some deep suffering and sadness behind them; for she may be young in years, but I assure you that deep down, she is not a child inside, believe me."

"You and Professor Crighton must be very proud of her, sir?"

He nodded, smiled and said, "We are indeed very proud of her. We could not have wished for a better child, we really couldn't. Me and her mother have both said that she is the guardian angel of this house and a shining star, who will go on to do great things for this world and will have a great future ahead of her, too, much like yourself, in fact."

"What was she like before the terrible event happened to her, sir?"

"Oh, she was lovely, Kiara, she really was. Very sweet little girl she was." He looked up at the ceiling, as if he was thinking back to when Sian was a little girl again.

"Really?" I asked, shocked and amazed at the thought that Sian could have such a side to her personality. He chuckled at the look on my face.

"I know it may seem amazing to one such as yourself to see her as she is now, but it's true what I say. Sian does have a sweet side to her character, which is only shown on very rare occasions, like when she is compassionate to others, for instance."

"Is that sweet girl that you knew gone, sir?"

"Havens no, child! I don't think I would love her as much if that girl wasn't there. She may come back to us quite someday in the far distant future, but for the time being though, I do not see that happening any time soon. But she is getting better."

"She is?" I said, surprised at this.

"Oh yes," he said, nodding. "Ever since she met you, she has talked a little bit more politely to others, has laughed a bit more and has shown a few more smiles around us. She speaks highly of you, you know."

"She does?"

"Uh-huh. I know you don't see it now, but soon you will see that Sian will be a very powerful friend for you to have. Also, if you are ever in a crisis and you don't know what to do, you must listen to what Sian says and to the orders that she gives, because to not listen to her at these times would be a very unwise and rather foolish thing to do. Trust me." We smiled at each other, before the girl we were speaking of came back in.

"Ah, there you are, Kiara. I was wondering where you were. And Dad," she said, turning to her father, "have you been telling Kiara how proud you are of me, like you are to a lot of people?"

"Er, something like that, S.D.," I said, looking at her apologetically.

Sian chuckled and said to me, "That's all right, Kiara. I'm used to it. Now come on. Go and get dressed. The rest are already dressed and now we just need you to be ready." So I rushed out of the room, ran along the ancestry corridor, past the fireplace, up the spiral staircase and to my room, and within ten minutes I was dressed. (I have to mention that we were all in our pyjamas when we entered the kitchen, just so you know.) I went down to the fireplace where the rest of the Dawsons were.

Sian picked up a plant pot from on top of the fireplace, looked in it and said, "We need to pick up some more Floo Powder whilst we're out, Dad. We're running low on the stuff." She then turned to me, held out the pot and said, "After you, Kiara."

I looked at her, wondering what this was and what I was meant to do, when Chrissie came to my rescue and said, "Oh, Kiara hasn't travelled by Floo Powder before, S.D."

"But, how did you get there last year?" Sian asked me.

"I went with my Grandmother Sarabi in the car, and we went through the secret entrance in the bathroom at Queen's Street."

"Do you think we should let her do this, then?" Sian asked, looking at her father for advice.

"Relax Siany, she'll be fine. Don't make such a fuss."

"But Dad, if she gets lost, what will we say to her grandmothers?"

"Don't worry, Sian. She'll be fine." Her father smiled at her reassuringly and nodded, too.

Sian thought about this for a moment, before she finally sighed, nodded and said, "Well, all right, then. But I'm only saying that because we're wasting enough time as it is. Anyhoo, Chrissie dear," she said, turning to her twin sister and holding out the pot for her, "you go first to show Kiara how it's done."

Chrissie stepped forward, took a pinch of the emerald green powder out of the pot, stepped into the fireplace and said as we all stepped back, "Brickabon Alley!" She then dropped the powder and we all saw her being engulfed in burning bright emerald flames. We were all looking slightly away from the fire, and some of us covered our eyes as she went, but we looked again as the flames went out, and I guessed that Chrissie was at Brickabon Alley, for she certainly wasn't there anymore.

After she had gone, I turned to Sian and said, "What's Brickabon Alley?"

The Dawsons' all looked at me shocked, like they couldn't believe that I had never heard of such a place before. Sian, as per usual, was the first to snap out of it. "Kiara," she said, "Brickabon Alley is the place which is where people go to get their magical supplies, which you get through by going through the women's public toilets in Southport. Surely Sarabi must have told you that?"

"No," I answered her. "She didn't say that to me at all."

Sian shrugged and said, "Well, you certainly know now,", before she stepped towards the fireplace again and turning to me said, "You see? It's perfectly simple, dear. Come on … Come on." She twitched her head slightly as she said these words as if encouraging me to come forth. I got a pat on the shoulder by Mr Dawson, which gave me some comfort, so I took a breath for courage and stepped forth to Sian.

"Now take your Floo Powder," Sian said, holding the pot out to me as she did to Chrissie. I took a pinch of Floo Powder as Sian instructed and looked at her. She was smiling encouragingly at me. "That's it, very good. Now then," she said as I was in the grate, "speak very, _very_ clearly, because you might get out of the wrong grate. And keep your elbows in and your head down, because you might end up hurting yourself. Oh, and you might want to think about closing your eyes as your spinning around, because you can start to feel a bit sick as your spinning around and looking at the other various fireplaces spinning past you. All right?" I just nodded, because she said all this quite fast and I didn't really know what to say. Sian smiled and stepped back to the others. I took a deep breath and said, "Brickabon Alley!"

We'll catch up with the Dawsons later, but the next thing I knew was that I was engulfed in emerald green flames.

I felt like I was being sucked into a giant plug hole. I was spinning very fast … the noise in my ears was deafening … I remembered what Sian said and I kept my eyes closed and my elbows tucked in, for a few moments before I had tried to keep my eyes open but the flames were making me sick and I knocked my elbow against a wall, so I tucked my arm in and closed my eyes … then it felt as though ice-cold hands were slapping my face … squinting I saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond them … I could feel my breakfast churning inside of me … I closed my eyes, praying to God that it would soon end – and then I fell flat on my face on a cold, stone floor.

Bruised, disorientated and covered in soot, I got gingerly to my feet and took a look around me. I was quite alone and as I brushed off the soot from my shoulders, I saw myself standing next to the fireplace of a large, dark, spooky and very dimly lit wizards' shop; but nothing in this shop seemed to be on the Dragon Mort school list.

A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a blood-stained pack of cards and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks leered down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. Even worse, the dark narrow street I could see through the dusty window did not look like Brickabon Alley.

I could see Sian's face in my head, and I heard a voice like hers say to me, "Try not to panic, Kiara. Nothing good ever came from panicking at a time like this. Just keep calm and try to get out of there as soon as possible." I trusted myself with this advice, and even though my nose was still stinging from where I hit the floor, I started to move swiftly and silently towards the door, but before I'd even got halfway towards it, three people appeared on the other side of the glass – and two of them were the very last people I wanted to meet when I was lost and covered in soot: Dani Malty and her cousin, Keziah Rae-Bradley.

I was filled with a deep sense of foreboding mixed with embarrassment as the blood quickly rushed to my cheeks, so I looked around quickly and saw my chance of avoiding their eyes; a large red cabinet was on my left; I shot inside it and shut the door to, leaving a small crack for me to see what was going on. Seconds later, a bell tingled and Malty and Rae-Bradley stepped into the shop.

The woman who followed them could only be Malty's mother and Rae-Bradley's aunt. She had the same pale, pointed face and identical cold, grey eyes as her daughter's. Mrs Malty crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to her daughter and niece and said, "Touch nothing, girls."

Malty and Rae-Bradley, who had both reached for the glass eye, looked at each other and then Dani turned to her mother and said, "I thought you were going to buy me a present, Mother?"

"I said I was going to buy you a racing broom," said her mother, drumming her fingers on the counter.

"Well, what's the good of that if she's not even in the house team?" said Rae-Bradley, who put a comforting arm round her cousin, who was looking sulkily up at her mother.

"Keziah's right, Mother," Malty said, who had a smile to share with her cousin before looking bad-tempered at her mother. "Kiara Pride-Lander got a Scoot-Zoomer Two Thousand last year."

"Special permission from Crighton, it was."

"Yeah, and she got to play for Lion-Heart."

"She's not even that good, is she, Dani?"

"No, Keziah, she's not, it's just because she's _famous_ … famous for having a stupid _scar_ on her forehead …"

Rae-Bradley was still intent on the glass eye, but Malty, who was bored with the eye, bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls.

"… everyone thinks she's so _smart_ , wonderful _Pride-Lander_ , with her _scar_ and her _broomstick_ –"

"You have both told me this at least a dozen times already," said Mrs Malty with a quelling look at her daughter and niece, "and I would remind you that it is not – prudent – to appear less fond of Kiara Pride-Lander, not when most of our kind regard her as the heroine who made the Scarlet Lady disappear – ah, Miss Borrin."

A stooping woman appeared from behind the counter, flicking back her long, greasy hair behind her back.

"Mrs Malty, what a pleasure it is to see you again," said Mrs Borrin, in a polite voice that was as greasy as her hair. "Delighted – and young Miss Malty and Miss Rae-Bradley, too – charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today and very reasonably priced –"

"I'm not buying today, Miss Borrin, but selling," said Mrs Malty.

"Selling?" The smile faded slightly from Miss Borrin's face.

"You have heard of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids," said Mrs Malty, taking a roll of parchment from her inside pocket and unravelling it for Miss Borrin to read. "I have a few – ah – items at home that might embarrass me if the Ministry were to call …"

Miss Borrin picked up a pair of spectacles that were on the counter and put them on.

"The Ministry wouldn't trouble you, ma'am, surely?"

Malty's lip curled.

"I have not been visited yet. The name of Malty still commands a certain respect (well, apart from the Dawsons', whose name is far more respectable than my own, for some reason or other), yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome, as it does with the Dawson family; you see it is my belief that that Muggle-loving, flea-bitten fool Matthew Dawson –"

"I thought it was Crighton you were worried about, ma'am?"

"Oh no, Crighton's one thing, but that meddlesome fool, Dawson is quite another; I know him because he works at the Ministry. He's in a different department, of course, but that doesn't stop us from seeing each other. And besides, he was in the same year as me back at Dragon Mort, so you can see where I'm going with this. Anyhoo, I'm sure that that Muggle-protecting fool, Matthew Dawson –"

As she said this, I felt a surge of white hot anger ran through me; but seeing as I didn't want to be found out, I took some deep, calm, silent breaths to try and cool my hot head, and clenched my fists.

"– is behind my house being on the list of houses to be searched next week. He hasn't said anything to me directly, but whenever we cross each other at the office, he always has a rather satisfied glint in his eyes that says, _"I'm on to you"_. So therefore, I have to take precautions, for as you can see, certain of these poisons might make it appear –"

"I understand, ma'am, of course," said Miss Borrin. "Let me see …"

"Can I have that?" interrupted Dani, pointing at the withered hand on its cushion. Rae-Bradley, who was still gazing rather misty-eyed at the fake eye glass, quickly came to her senses and ran over to where her cousin was, her eyes glistening with excitement.

"Ah, the Hand of Glory!" said Miss Borrin, abandoning Mrs Malty's list and scurrying over to Dani and Keziah. "Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your daughter and niece both have a very fine taste, ma'am!"

"I hope my daughter and niece will both amount to more than plunderers or thieves," said Mrs Malty coldly and Miss Borrin said quickly, "No offence, ma'am, no offence meant –"

"Though if their school marks don't pick up," Mrs Malty said even more coldly, "that may indeed be all that they are fir for –"

"It's not our fault, Mother," retorted Dani. "The teachers all have their favourites, like that Sian Dawson –"

"Yeah," Keziah put in, "just because she's so smart –"

"I would have thought that you girls would both know better than to compete against the girl who is the beast in her family and who beat you both in every exam," snapped Mrs Malty.

" _Ha! That shut them up!"_ I said under my breath, pleased to see Dani and Keziah looking both abashed and angry.

"It's the same all over," said Miss Borrin, in her oily voice. "There is always a worst witch or wizard in every family –"

"Not with me," said Mrs Malty, her short nostrils flaring.

"No, ma'am, nor with me, ma'am," said Miss Borrin, with a deep curtsey.

"With that being the case, perhaps we can return to my list," said Mrs Malty shortly. "I am in something of a hurry Borrin, for I have important business to attend to elsewhere today, and I really want to hurry this thing up."

They started to haggle, but I wasn't interested in that; instead, my eyes were more nervously focussed on the fact that Dani and her cousin were coming ever closer to where I was hidden, examining all the objects for sale. They paused to examine a long coil of hangman's rope and to read, smirking and sniggering, the card propped on a magnificent necklace of opals: _Caution: DO NOT TOUCH: Cursed – Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle Lives to Date_.

Dani and Keziah turned away and they saw the cabinet right in front of them. They walked forward. My heart was hammering, my palms and forehead were sweaty and I was trembling … and just when I thought I was in for it good and proper when they were reaching out one of both their hands –

"Done," said Mrs Malty at the counter. "Come, Danielle! Keziah!"

I sighed a huge silent sigh of relief and wiped my forehead on my sleeve as Dani and Keziah turned away.

"Good day to you, Miss Borrin. I'll expect you at the house tomorrow to collect the goods."

The moment the door had closed, Miss Borrin dropped her oily manner.

"Good day yourself, _Misses_ Malty, and if the stories are true, you haven't sold me half of what's hidden in your house."

Muttering darkly, Miss Borrin disappeared into a back room. I waited for a minute in case she came back, then, I opened the door as quietly as I could, I slipped out of the cabinet, past the glass cases and out of the shop door.

I stared around. I had just emerged into a dingy alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of shops which were all devoted to the Dark Arts. The one I'd just left, Borrin and Burka, looked like the largest, but opposite was a nasty window display of shrunken heads, and two doors down, a large cage was alive with gigantic black spiders. Two shabby-looking witches were watching me from a doorway, muttering to each other. Feeling jumpy, I set off, hoping against hope I'd be able to find my way out of their and soon see a face that was friendly.

An old wooden sign hanging over a shop selling poisonous candles told me that I was in Dark Avenue. This didn't help me in my current situation, for I had never heard of such a place in my life before. Looking back in hindsight, I thought to myself at this point that I probably hadn't spoken clearly enough through my mouthful of ashes back at the Dawsons' fire. Trying to stay calm, I wondered what to do.

Just then, a voice in my ear said, "Not lost are you, my dear?" making me jump.

An aged wizard stood in front of me, holding a tray of what disturbingly looked like human fingernails. He leered at me, showing mossy teeth. I backed away a few steps.

"I'm fine, thanks," I said, trying to calm my nerves as I felt panic rising within me. "I just –"

"KIARA! What d'yeh think yer doin' down there?"

My heart leapt as I jumped and spun round on the spot. So did the wizard; a load of fingernails cascaded down over his feet and he cursed as the massive form of Mina, the Dragon Mort gamekeeper, came striding towards us, oak-brown eyes flashing down on me.

"Mina!" I croaked with relief. "Boy am I glad to see you, for you see I got lost … Floo powder …"

Mina seized me by the scruff of the neck and pulled me away from the wizard, knocking the tray right out of his hands. His screams followed us all the way along the twisted alleyway out into the bright sunlight-type streetlamps. I saw a familiar tree-like building in the distance: Fauntrotts bank. Mina had steered me right into the heart of Brickabon Alley, which I though was odd, because the last time I came here, I had travelled through doors to get to places. I decided to ask Mina what this meant before she said anything else.

"Mina, how are we near Fauntrotts? And how come there are so many people walking down the street? And why are people walking into shops, when I thought that the only way into them was by twisting a door to get inside a shop."

Mina seemed surprised at this, for she said, "Blimey, Kiara! Didn' Sarabi tell yeh?"

"Tell me what?" I asked.

Mina shook her head, and then said, "Look, Kiara, the only way in here is by twisting doors to get into a building is by twisting one of the doors to get inside, but -" she raised her voice slightly before I could interrupt her, " - that's not the only way out of them. Yeh see, Kiara, you can walk out of the shops by using the front doors of the shops just like normal doors (yeh have ter twist the doors inside the Witching Service to get through ter here), which is why there are plenty of people walkin' down the street."

"Oh," I said dumbly. "But, if this is all true, then why did I just notice only the buildings that were in front of me or straight ahead of me. And why didn't Grandmother Sarabi tell me any of this?"

"She didn't tell yeh, Kiara, 'cause she knew that you would be too excited ter pay much attention ter what was goin' on around yeh, for she told me that yeh had never bin outside yeh village before, Kiara, which is also the reason why yeh didn' notice anything else around yeh. Now, stand still fer just a mo'," she said. "Look around yeh properly, and see clearly."

I did what she said, confused by what she was saying which was only for a moment or two, before the murkiness that had been surrounding the rest of this place last year suddenly vanished, and I saw a long, cobbled street which twisted and turned here and there, with vast varieties of witches and wizards who went in and also came streaming out of shops left, right and centre. I was so amazed by all this, that I felt like I was eleven years old again, discovering this place for the first time. I'm not going to go into any length of detail about all the shops that were there, for I covered some of the important ones in my last book, if you recall. Anyhoo, Mina chuckled at the astonished look on my face. I looked up at her in delight and she smiled even more widely at me.

"Yeh see?" she said teasingly, her brown eyes glinting happily, before her face became suddenly serious again, as she said, "Yer a mess!" and started brushing soot off of me so forcefully that she almost knocked me into a barrel of dragon dung outside an apothecary's. "Skulkin' around Dark Avenue, I dunno – _dodgy place, Kiara_ – don't want no one ter see yeh down there –"

"I realised _that_ ," I said, ducking as Mina made to brush me off again. "I told you, I was lost – what were you doing down there, anyway?"

" _I_ was lookin' for a Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent," growled Mina. "They're ruinin' the school cabbages. Yer not on yer own?"

"I'm staying with the Dawsons but we got separated," I explained. "I've got to find them …"

We set off down the street together.

"How come yer never wrote back ter me?" said Mina, as I jogged alongside her (I had to take three steps to every stride of Mina's boots). I explained about what Dokey had done.

"Well, that's awful odd for a house elf to do, isn't it?" said Mina confusedly. "If I'd've known what would happen, I'd've gone to Crighton as fast as you could say –"

" _Kiara! Kiara! Over here!"_

I looked up and saw the eldest Dawson girl standing at the top of the winding rooted steps of Fauntrotts. She ran down to meet me, her long, shiny, waist-length hair flying behind her.

"Kiara," she breathed, sighing in relief with a smile of relief on her face as she looked at me. "Oh, thank goodness you're all right! Oh, hello Mina!" she said, seeing Mina for the first time. "It is _wonderful_ to see you again. Kiara, are you coming in?"

"As soon as I've found the rest of your family. Where are they, anyway?"

"Oh, Dad told me to be at the top of the steps of Fauntrotts as he and my siblings went to try and find out where you were. And speaking of my family, I'm wondering where they are now."

"Yeh won't have long to wait," grinned Mina.

Sian and I looked round; springing up the crowded street were the other members of the Dawson family.

" _Kiara,"_ Mr Dawson panted. "We hoped you hadn't gone one grate too far." He wiped his glistening forehead.

"Just out of curiosity, where did you come out?" Chrissie asked me.

"Dark Avenue," I said grimly.

Sian, her father and many of her other siblings gasped, whereas Chrissie, Merida, Chris, Ben and Dave started to laugh in envy.

" _Cool!"_ said Chrissie and Merida together.

" _Wicked!"_ said Ben and Dave together.

"We've never been allowed in," said Chris enviously.

"I should ruddy well think not," growled Mina.

Sian then noticed I had soot on me. Turning me to her, she pulled a large clothes brush out of her bag and began to sweep off the soot that Mina hadn't managed to beat away.

"Well, gotta be off," said Mina, who was having her hand wrung by Sian ("Dark Avenue! If you hadn't found her, Mina!"). "See yer at Dragon Mort!" And she strode away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street.

"Guess who I saw in Borrin and Burka?" I asked Chris, Sian and Chrissie as we climbed the Fauntrotts steps. "Rae-Bradley, Malty and Malty's mother."

"Did Narissa Malty buy anything?" said Mr Dawson sharply behind us.

"No, she was selling."

"So, she's worried," said Mr Dawson with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Narissa Malty for something. You know it was me who suggested to someone at the Ministry to get Narissa's house searched …"

"You be careful, Dad," said Sian sharply, as we were ushered into Fauntrotts by a bowing faun at the door. "That family's trouble, so don't you go biting off more than you can chew."

"So you think I'm no match for Narissa Malty?" said Mr Dawson indignantly, but as he looked at his eldest daughter, he saw her give a look that clearly said, "Don't go putting your feet where they aren't welcome," and with that, his cheeks flushed, his sharp look quelled and that conversation was over.

The Dawsons and myself were lead off to our underground vaults by another Fauntrotts faun.

The vaults were reached by means of travelling along a long underground passage. On the one side was a wall with flaming torches and on the other side were arched doors which led to where the vaults were. We had to walk quite a while before we could pass through a door to where we would pass through and get to our money vaults. The faun rubbed her hand over an archway and we watched as it transformed into a door. We passed through the door and saw a labyrinth of tunnels, on one side were doors and on the other was a massive drop. We travelled further along the long, winding labyrinth and I could tell we had reached the Dawsons' vault, for there were five different coloured orbs surrounding the door which separated around us as we got nearer; they were green, red, yellow, blue and purple. I was amazed and impressed, for I had never seen a vault guarded like this before. I turned to Sian, who smiled at me.

"They're Element Orbs, Kiara," she explained to me, as Mr Dawson handed the faun their key.

"Element Orbs?"

"Yes, they have the five main elements contained in each of them: green is earth, red is fire, yellow is air, blue is water and purple is spirit. If anyone but a member but our family tries to get into our vault, well, let's just say that they have a nasty surprise in store for them. Trust me, I've seen the tests they've done." And I did believe her.

I gasped at the amount of money stored in the vault. Mounds and mounds of gold, silver and bronze filled the place. I was glad to know that they gave some of this away to special causes, for they were a good family. Mr Dawson got some of it in a leather bag, then he got another one and put some in there. I later discovered that the second bag would be used as the pocket money bag, and would be split equally between each of the family when we got back to the Manor, for the Dawson siblings had enough to spend until then. Then we went to my vault, and I was surprised to see that I had the same amount.

Back outside on the root steps, we all separated. Ben and Dave went to the joke shop. Merida was going to the apothecary's to see if she could buy an owl. Joe and Jack went to the inventory to see if they could get any gizmos or new stuff to help with their invention making, and Beth and Kestrel went with Mr Dawson to pick up their new school things.

"We'll all meet up at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your school books," said Mr Dawson to us, before we all split up.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I set off down the winding cobbled street. The bag of gold, silver and bronze jingled cheerfully in my pocket was clamouring to be spent, so I bought us all strawberry and cookie-dough ice-creams which we slurped happily as we wandered up the alley, examining the fascinating shop windows. Chrissie gazed longingly at a full set of Chudley Cannon (her Quidditch team) robes in the window of _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ , until Sian dragged us off to buy ink and parchment next door. In _Gambol and Japes_ _Wizarding Joke Shop_ , we met Ben and Dave, who were stocking up on _Dr Filibuster's Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks_ , and in the inventory we found the Tweebs, who were showing the person behind the counter some of their designs on blueprints and were explaining what they were for.

"Of course, we're all pretty ambitious," Sian told me, as us two, Chris and Chrissie left the Tweebs to it. "I want to work as a teacher at the school, and someday become the new headmistress of the place. Beth, Kestrel and many others want to go into the Ministry, Ben and Dave want to set up their own joke shop and the Tweebs want to set up their own inventory, to sell some of their inventions, create new ones of their own and have a bigger workshop and to help others with the things that they create. But back to Ben and Dave; I don't like the idea of them going into the joke business, because I think that they've been hanging round too much of Tanya and Geri of late, because they want to set up a joke shop of their own, too. I've put my foot down on the matter of Ben and Dave doing anything with this joke shop idea of theirs for now, but I know that they'll not give up that easy."

"Why don't you get Tanya and Geri to stop their joke shop idea, then?" I asked Sian.

"Well, they're not my sisters, aren't they?" and that was the end of that.

An hour later, we headed off for Flourish and Blotts. We were by no means the only ones making our way to the bookshop. As we approached it, we saw to our surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. the reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

 _GISELLE GOLD_

 _Will be signing copies of her autobiography_

 _MAGICAL ME!_

 _Today 12.30 – 4.30 pm._

"We can actually meet her!" exclaimed Chris. "I mean, she's written almost the whole booklist!"

The crowd seemed to be made up of wizards around Mr Dawson's age. A harassed-looking witch stood at the door, saying, "Calmly, please gentlemen … don't push there … mind the books, now …"

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I managed to squeeze our way inside. A long queue wound right to the back of the shop, where Giselle Gold would be signing her books. We all grabbed a copy of _The Banshee Break_ , and sneaked up the line to where the rest of the Dawsons were standing.

"Oh, there you are, good," said Mr Dawson when he spotted us. He sounded nervous and kept patting his hair. "We'll be able to see her in a minute …"

Giselle Gold came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of her face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Gold was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue which exactly matched her eyes; her pointed witch's hat was set at a jaunty angle over her wavy hair.

A short, irritable-looking woman was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash. Gold was a natural for the camera; she posed in every perfect way possible, her smile charming practically every man in the room.

"M.E.," Sian whispered, so that only me and Chrissie could hear her.

"M.E.?" Chrissie asked her, whilst I looked just as puzzled as she was at Sian.

"Yeah, you know: Massive Ego," she joked, nodding at Gold. Then we all giggled quietly. When we had stifled our laughter, and turned back to the front and kept a good eye on Gold and when Sian thought no one else was looking at her, she pulled out a large rectangular wooden object, which was much larger and wider than a mobile phone, which had a lot more knobs and buttons on the side of it, and an antennae sticking out of the top of it. I didn't know what it was, but Sian certainly did; for she lifted it over the heads of the people in front of her, and it looked to me like it was _scanning_ Gold. I thought that this was ridiculous, for no one could _scan_ another person with an object, it just wasn't possible. As this was running through my head, Sian, who had obviously finished with scanning Gold, saw what I was looking at and quickly stuffed the object back inside her bag. She gave me a look that was part warning, part _don't ask any questions here_. So we turned back to the front, for I thought that it was rather unwise for me to ask what that strange object was in front of all these people.

The photographer who was still dancing around, wanted to get a much more wider shot of Gold. "Out of the way, there," she snarled at Chrissie, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the _Daily Squabbler_."

"Big deal," grumbled Chrissie, rubbing her foot where the photographer had stepped on it.

Giselle Gold heard her. She looked up, saw Chrissie – and then she saw me standing right beside her. She started, then leapt to her feet and positively shouted, "It _can't_ be Kiara Pride-Lander?"

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly. Gold dived forwards, seized my arm and pulled me to the front. The crowd burst into applause. I could feel the blood rush into my cheeks as Gold shook my hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Dawsons.

"Nice big smile, Kiara," said Gold through her own gleaming teeth. "Together you and I are worth the front page."

When Gold finally let go of my hand, I could hardly feel my fingers. I tried to stride back over to the Dawsons, but Gold threw her arm round my shoulders and clamped her tightly to her side.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she said loudly, waiting for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect time for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"You see, when young Kiara here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, she only wanted my autobiography – which I shall be happy to present to her now, free of charge –" the crowd applauded again " – she had no idea," Gold continued, giving me a little shake, " that she would be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me_. She and her school friends will, in fact, be getting the real, magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Dragon Mort Magical Academy!"

The crowd cheered and clapped and I found myself being presented with the entire works of Giselle Gold. Staggering slightly under their weight, I managed to make my way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Beth and Kestrel were standing with their new cauldrons.

"Either of you can have them if you want," I said, speaking to the girls. "I'll buy my own –"

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Pride-Lander?" said a voice I had no trouble in recognising. I straightened up and found myself face to face with Dani Malty and her cousin, Keziah Rae-Bradley, who were wearing their usual sneers.

" _Famous_ Kiara Pride-Lander," said Rae-Bradley. "Can't even go into a _bookshop_ without making the front page."

"Leave her alone, she didn't want all that!" said Chris, who appeared with his Gold bunch. That was the first time that he had ever stood up for me. He was glaring at Malty and Rae-Bradley.

"Oh, look Pride-Lander! You've got yourself a _boyfriend_!" drawled Malty.

"Aww, do you _looooooooooove_ her, Rickers?" sneered Rae-Bradley.

"Shut up, you two," Chris muttered, turning scarlet as Sian and Chrissie came over.

"Oh, it's you two, as well," said Malty, looking at the two new arrivals as if they were something unpleasant on the side of her shoe.

"Bet you're both surprised to see Kiara here, eh?" said Chrissie.

"Not as surprised to see you here, Dawson," retorted Rae-Bradley. "We both thought that you're father's money was going to explode out of his pocket when he knew he'd have to pay for this lot."

Chrissie went as red as Chris. She dropped the books into Beth's cauldron, and started towards Malty, but me, Sian and Chris held her back.

"Christina!" said Mr Dawson, wading over with the rest of his children. "What are you doing. It's mad in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well – Matthew Dawson."

It was Mrs Malty. She had one hand on Dani's shoulder and the other on Keziah's shoulder, and was sneering in just the same way as her daughter and niece.

"Narissa," said Mr Dawson, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mrs Malty. "All these raids … I hope their paying you overtime?"

She reached into Kestrel's cauldron and pulled out a brand new copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_. That made the smile fade from her face, to mine and the Dawsons' satisfaction.

"Clearly," she said. "You know, I wonder what is the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard, when they're already paying you so well."

Mr Dawson flushed even darker than Chris or Chrissie.

"We have a different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malty," he said.

"Clearly," said Mrs Malty. "The useless Muggle contraptions you keep, Dawson … and I thought your family could sink no lower –"

There were two thuds of metal as both Beth and Kestrel's cauldrons went flying; Mr Dawson had thrown himself at Mrs Malty, knocking her backwards into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spell books came thundering down on all our heads; there was a yell of "Get her, Dad!" from Ben and Dave; Sian was shrieking, "No, Dad, no!"; the crowd stampede backwards, knocking more shelves over; "Gentleman, lady, please – please!" cried the assistant; and then, louder than all of them, "Break it up, there, break it up –"

Mina was wading towards them through the sea of books. In an instant she had pulled Mr Dawson and Mrs Malty apart. Mr Dawson had a cut lip and Mrs Malty had been hit in the eye by an _Encyclopaedia of Toadstools_. She was still holding Kestrel's new transfiguration book. Mrs Malty thrust it at her, her eyes glimmering with malice.

"Here, girl – take your book – after all, your father can afford to give you the best that money can buy –"

Pulling herself from Mina's grip, she beckoned to Dani and Keziah and swept from the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored her, Matt," said Mina, almost lifting Mr Dawson off his feet as she straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that. No Malty's worth listenin' ter. Bad blood, that's what it is. Come on now – let's get outta here –"

The assistant looked as though she wanted to stop us from leaving, but she barely came up to Mina's waist and seemed to think better of it. We hurried up the street, Sian beside herself with fury.

"A _fine_ example to set in front of the younger ones … _brawling in public_ … _what_ Giselle Gold must have thought …"

"She was pleased," said Merida. "Did you hear her as we were leaving? She was asking that woman from the _Daily Squabbler_ if she'd be happy to work the fight into her report – said it was _all publicity_. Can we go home now?"

"Yes sweetie, we are. Don't you worry," said Mr Dawson.

"Good, because I need to check something out when we get back home," said Sian. Then the image of the object that Sian was holding popped back into my head. I thought it best to ask when we got back to Dawson Manor. So I kept my mouth shut as we all headed to the Witching Service to the fireplace where me, the Dawsons and all our shopping would be travelling back to Dawson Manor using Floo powder.

I helped myself to Floo powder. It definitely wasn't my way to travel.

When we got back, we left our shopping by the fireplace as we would carry it upstairs later. Mr Dawson said that he would do the washing up as well as make snacks for the rest of the kids, because he said he needed something to cool his mind after what happened in Flourish and Blotts. Sian gladly agreed, for she said that she had some stuff to check before she got started on lunch. She, Chris and Chrissie were starting to head upstairs as the rest went down to the kitchen, and seeing as this was my only chance to ask her what that object was, I jumped at the opportunity.

"Sian, what was that object that you were holding back at Flourish and Blotts?"

Sian, Chris and Chrissie stopped on their way up, turned round, looked at me and then at each other. Sian turned to Chris and Chrissie and said to them, "You two know where to go. I'll meet you up there in a few moments."

Chris and Chrissie nodded at her and continued up the stairs as Sian turned back to me. She sighed and said, "Kiara, you can forget what you saw, or you can come with me, and life will change for you a bit more than it already has."

I thought about this for a few moments before I said to Sian, "I want to know."

Sian nodded and said, "Then follow me." And I did follow her up the stairs, and we went through the door where on my first day here she told me not to go through, and as we went up through corridors with doors leading to rooms, going higher and higher, she told me, "A few years ago, our mother decided to follow in the footsteps of a journalist by the name of Sarah-Jane Smith, who deals with very strange creatures and objects."

"How strange are we talking, exactly?" I asked her.

Sian chuckled, turned round, smiled at me and said, "You'll see. Come on." And we kept going up. "There's something else you should know about this house, too."

"What's that then, S.D.?"

"There was once one main attic of this house, but after what my mother discovered, she thought it would be best if we would split it into two attics. The larger one at the other end of the house keeps all our old clothes, photographs and stuff; the other which you are about to see now, well, you'll see …" and for a few more minutes no more was said, until we came to a wooden door.

"Welcome, Kiara, to the Cave of Wonders," Sian said mysteriously as she opened the door slightly. I looked apprehensively at the door for a moment, then looked at Sian. Her smile reassured me, so I opened the door and stepped inside.

I gasped at the wonder of it all. The room was small and it was amazing how much stuff was in this room; articles of aliens and of a man called _The Doctor_ – whoever he was – were plastered over the walls, a few small tables were placed in a few corners, and on them were alien plants, guns, strange gizmos and other strange alien stuff, including a small silver box which I later learned emanated a strange blue flashing light if you twisted it a certain way or if danger was near. A couple of steps down were a few chairs and a sofa. It was incredible. Sian came in, shut the door and smiled and chuckled at the look on my face, as did Chris and Chrissie. I looked at her and she seemed pleased that I liked what I saw.

"I told you there were strange things up here."

"What do you guys do up here, then?" I asked.

"Glad you asked, kid," said Chrissie. "You see, in our spare time, we take a look over the alien creatures that come to our planet."

"Wow! So, it's not just Muggle stories, then? Really?"

Sian, Chris and Chrissie laughed. Then Chris said, "Yeah, it really happens. All the time, in fact. But it doesn't get put on the news a lot because they find a way to make themselves unseen by all the satellites in the atmosphere."

I saw Sian nod and she said, "That's right, Kiara. You see, when we're not at school or doing our homework, we come up here to look at the stories that concern the aliens coming, or any wizarding stuff that we find strange. You see, if aliens need help getting home, then we help them. However, if they are here to cause chaos and havoc (Which, let's face it, happens most of the time, anyway), we have to put a stop to it. People think that guns and violence are ways to stop violence, but I believe that there is a better way to go about it, as does Sarah-Jane. Oh, and this is where you've seen us coming to the past few weeks, too."

"So, what was that object that you were holding in Flourish and Blotts that you own, about then?" I asked Sian.

"Oh, you mean this?" she said, pulling the object out of her bag. I nodded. Sian gave me a nod of understanding and said, "Oh, well this, my dear girl is my Scanner. It's brilliant! It tells you everything about a person, including if they're an impostor or not, can give you directions to anywhere in the world and is really good at a whole load of other stuff, and it's good for me to have around the school because it's made by wizards who took a whole load of Muggle stuff and created a wizarding device for me to use."

"That's a really cool piece of equipment you've got there, Sian!" I said, impressed at the Scanner she had in her hand. "Can you get me one of those?"

Sian chuckled and said, "I'll see what I can do for you, Kiara. I'll ask Wayde if he can fix one up for you. And speaking of Wayde …" She turned to the wall at the end of the room and said, "Wayde, come in please."

Just when I was going to ask who Wayde was, the wall in front of me started to move. I jumped back in surprise as the main part of the wall split into three parts; the first big, rectangular part rose up towards the ceiling, and the two bit below moved out, revealing a computer. The screen for a few moments remained blank, but then came to life as a chubby, brown skinned, brown eyed, black haired boy in pyjamas about the age of twelve showed his face. He smiled as he saw Sian.

"Hey S.D., Chris, Chrissie," the boy spoke to them in a strong American accent.

"Hey, Wayde."

"Hi."

"'S'up, bro?"

Sian sighed and shook her head at the same time, looked at Chris and said, "Chris, what have I told you about being cool?"

"To stop being cool."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm not good at being cool."

"And you'll do well to remember that, Rickers," said Sian sharply. Then she turned back to Wayde and said, "Oh, Wayde, this is our friend Kiara Pride-Lander, the Girl Who Lived. Kiara, this is Wayde, our friend in America, who keeps us up on information about things going on in the wizarding world and alien worlds alike."

Wayde looked at me amazed for a moment, and then smiled at me and said, "It's good to meet you, Kiara."

"And you, Wayde. So nice to meet you." I smiled at the new friend that I had made.

Sian smiled at us, pleased that we had got off to a good start. Then her voice turned crisp and business-like as she said, "Now Wayde, I need you to give me information on a witch by the name of Giselle Gold. Could you get some up for us, Wayde?"

"Coming right up, S.D." and he went typing away on his computer for a few minutes, whilst we waited. Then he must have got some stuff, for he said, "Here we go: Giselle Gold; the famous and one of the most beautiful people in the world, Giselle is best known for being one of the most famous Defenders of the Dark Arts people in the world, next to Harry Potter, of course. Her books have sold millions over the world and people have loved reading about how she dealt with all the magical creatures she came across and of all the fascinating places she's been to. She is also known for having one of the most amazing smiles."

"Thanks for that, Wayde," said Sian, "but I scanned her today in Flourish and Blotts. Would you mind taking a look at them for us?"

"Sure thing, S.D.." Sian pulled out her Scanner whilst walking up to the computer and putting her scanner into a part of the computer, transmitted the results of her scan to Wayde. He examined them closely for a few minutes, then did a bit more research on his computer.

"Hmmm …" he said after a few minutes had passed.

"What is it, Wayde?" asked Sian, her interest picking up.

"Well, it's interesting …"

" _What's_ interesting?" said Chrissie.

"Well, Giselle Gold is said to be one of the most powerful witches in the world, right?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"What about it, Chrissie, is the fact that from the results of Sian's scan, Giselle doesn't seem to have about only five per-cent magical blood in her."

" _What?_ " Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I gasped.

"It's true," said Wayde. "According to this, Giselle is almost a non-magical being."

"So, if that's true, then how can she have dealt with those magical creatures the way that she does in her books? I mean, there has to be a trick about it, surely."

"According to this, there is."

"How so, Wayde?" said Sian.

"According to what I've picked up, some of the people in the places Gold has visited had their memories just fine before she visited, and then after she had gone, they had forgotten a lot of things."

"So what's happened there then?" asked Chris, looking as puzzled as me and Chrissie; but as per usual, Sian had an answer for us up her sleeve.

"Well, she must have used memory charms on the witches and wizards she talked to so that they could keep their mouths shut."

"You really think so, S.D.?" I asked her.

"Of course I do," Sian said. "It's obvious if you think about it. And besides, she's not the first one to do it on people. Do you remember that story Dad told us a few years ago about that Ministry witch, Bertha Jorkins?"

Chrissie and Chris nodded their heads and said things like, "Oh, yeah," and, "That was sad, that was."

I had no idea what they were talking about, so I said, "Who's Bertha Jorkins?"

Sian turned to me and said, "Bertha Jorkins, Kiara, was a witch who worked for the Ministry in some department or other, I can't remember what department she worked in now, so don't ask me. Anyhoo, she had brains but she was a chatterbox, and believe me, those two things do not mix well at all. Well, she was going on holiday to see her relatives over the summer before the Triwizard Tournament started – which, before you ask, is when three schools come together, and three students from each school is selected to compete in three extremely dangerous tasks. As I was saying, before she left the country, the Ministry put a few Memory Charms on her, to stop her from blurting out any information to anyone on her travels about the Tournament."

"So, what happened to her?" I asked.

"What happened to her, Kiara, was that when she was in Albania, Peter Pettigrew – or Wormatail, if you prefer – who was one of Lord Voldemort's old followers, got her and took her back to where Voldemort was. Voldemort then undid all the Memory Charms, found out about the Tournament, and there and then formed a plan to get rid of Harry Potter."

"So what did Voldemort do after he had got all the information out of Bertha's head?" I asked Sian. "Did he let her go?"

Sian snorted and said, "Oh no, Kiara, he didn't do that. Instead after he had got all the information that he wanted out of her, he ended up killing her, so she wouldn't reveal the whereabouts of him to another living soul, I should think, for that's just a guess."

"The poor woman," I said, whilst Sian, Chris and Chrissie bowed and shook their heads.

After a few minutes silence, Chrissie said, "So, getting back to the point, then; why did Gold use Memory Charms on those poor people? I mean, for what purpose could she have for doing that?"

"I don't know," said Sian, with a troubled look on her face. "But what I do know is that we should keep an eye on her at the school, seeing as she is our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. What do you guys think?" We all nodded in agreement with her. She smiled and said to us, "Good." Then turning back to Wayde she said, "Well, I think that's everything for now, Wayde." She walked to the computer, removed her Scanner and put it back in her bag. "We'll talk later. Bye for now."

"Bye," said Wayde, as the computer closed back, and it looked just like a wall again. And with that done, we all went down stairs, took our books to our rooms and enjoyed the rest of the day together.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **The Bashing Tree**

 **KIARA**

The end of the summer holidays came far too quickly for my liking. Oh, don't get me wrong readers, for I was looking forward to get back to Dragon Mort, but my month at Dawson Manor had been one of the best and happiest of my entire life so far back then. It was difficult not to feel jealous of Sian and her family when I had a perfectly good house of my own with my grandmothers and the happy welcome that I'd be getting when I got there, despite my aunt and cousin's disliking towards me, of course.

On our last evening there (well, for most of us, anyway), Sian conjured up a sumptuous dinner which included all of my favourite things, ending with a mouth-watering treacle pudding. Beth and Kestrel – who bought some in Brickabon Alley – rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster Fireworks; they filled the dining room with red and blue stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last mug of hot chocolate and bed.

I was quite surprised the next morning, for everything at Dawson Manor was always neat, tidy and things that were meant to be done were done right on schedule. The morning that we went to Dragon Mort, however, it took quite some time for us to get moving. We were up at cock-crow, but somehow we still seemed to have a great deal to do. Sian was dashing about the house in a mood, looking for spare quills and socks; people kept colliding on the stairs, half-dressed with bits of toast in their hands, and Mr Dawson almost broke his neck, tripping over one of the bags near the computer as he was helping Joey to carry one of the trunks to the car.

I couldn't see how thirteen people, six large trunks, one owl, a cat and a rat were going to fit into one car. I had reckoned, of course, without the special features that were added to the car.

"Miss D. knows, of course," whispered Joey to me, as he opened the boot and explained to me how he had magically expanded the interior, without doing anything to the exterior of the back of the car.

When at last we were all in the car, Sian glanced into the back seat, where myself, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Chris, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave were all seating comfortably side by side, for the car had been elongated by using the controls near the steering wheel, so that it felt like we were in a small limo. Sian said, "Muggles do know more than what we give them credit for, don't they?" She, Mr Dawson and Joey were in the front, which had been stretched so that it resembled the size of a park bench. "I mean, you'd never guess it was this roomy from the outside, would you?" I need to add that from the outside, no one could see how we all fit into this car.

Joey started up the engine and we started off towards the gates (Joey had over the past few weeks, with the help of the Tweebs, a handy little device which was installed by the gates and in the car, which meant that you could open the gates within the car, which was really clever), which Joey opened by pressing a button just underneath the steering wheel. I turned back for a last look at the house. I barely had time to wonder when I'd see it again when we were back: Beth had forgotten her Filibuster Fireworks. We were almost in the air when Kestrel shrieked that she'd forgotten her diary, and that was only a few minutes later. By the time she had clambered back inside the car, we were running ten minutes late and tempers were running high.

"Joey, get us in the air," Sian huffed.

"But, Miss D. –"

" _Now_ , Joseph!"

"Do as she says, Joey. Trust me," said Mr Dawson, giving Joey a swift nod. He gave Mr Dawson a few quick nods in return and then got us in the air, which Sian was pretty thankful for.

We reached the silent road, which was near the docks at Derby, at a quarter to eleven. Mr Dawson and Joey also pulled trolleys out of the trunks, as well. They had been pressed down with the Dawsons' technology that the Tweebs had used so well. Mr Dawson and Joey pressed a small red button on top of each of the six trolleys, and they changed from small and compressed, to the metal trolleys on wheels which we knew of so well. When our trunks were laden on the trolleys, we dashed near to the grate which would take us to the sub house.

I had caught one of the submarines to Dragon Mort the previous year. The trick was to get in to the sub house, which wasn't visible to Muggles. What you had to do was walk straight through the said gutter which lay in the middle of the road, which took you through it and to a sewage waterslide (fortunately enough, you didn't get any of the water and other stuff on you), which then took you to the sub house. Fortunately enough, it didn't hurt, but it had to be done carefully so that none of the Muggles didn't notice you vanish.

"Dad, I think we should go in groups," said Sian.

"Agreed," said Mr Dawson, looking nervously at his watch. "It's got to be done quickly, though, for we only have five minutes before the subs set off. All right, Merida and Dave, you two go through first."

Merida and Dave went through the grate, followed shortly afterwards by Joe, Jack and Ben, with Joey on their heels.

"Right," said Sian, "Chris, you take Beth through with you, then I'll take Kestrel, and you two come right after us," she said to me and Chrissie. We nodded at her. Then Sian nodded to Chris, who went through the grate with Beth right behind him.

Sian walked over to Kestrel and stood by her, when she looked over her shoulder at her father. "Dad, do you want –?"

"You go on first, Siany. I'll be right behind you." He smiled at Sian.

She smiled back at him, and then grabbed her trolley with one hand and her sister's trolley with the other. Sian looked at Kestrel, who was looking rather nervously at the grate. She looked up at Sian and seemed to calm under her gaze. "Together?" Sian asked her. Kestrel nodded, and together they went through the grate with Mr Dawson and in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

"Let's go together, for we've only got a minute," Chrissie told me.

I made sure that Harold's cage was wedged safely on top of my trunk and wheeled my trolley round to face the barrier. I felt perfectly confident; this wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as using Floo powder. The two of us bent low over the handles of our trunks and walked perfectly towards the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet from it, we broke into a run and –

We just _walked right over it_?

Chrissie and I both thought that this was odd, because this had never happened before. We went over it again a few more times, before we saw that it was a lost cause, and gave up.

"Why can't we get through?" I hissed to Chrissie.

"I dunno –"

Chrissie looked wildly around, but there was no one else in sight.

"We're going to miss the subs," Chrissie whispered. "I don't understand why the gateway sealed itself …"

I looked at the watch my grandmothers had given me for my birthday that year, with a sickening feeling in my stomach. Ten seconds … nine seconds …

I wheeled my trolley cautiously until it was right against the barrier, and pushed with all my might. The wall of solid brick remained shut.

Three seconds … two seconds … one second …

"They're gone," said Chrissie, sounding stunned. "The subs have left. What if Dad, Joey and your grandmothers can't get back through to us? Have you got any Muggle money?"

"Not on me, no. My grandmothers keep my money safe for me."

"What're we going to do? I don't know how long it'll take for Dad, Joey and your grandmothers to get back to us."

We looked around. A few streets away, all we could hear was a dog barking, nothing else.

"I think we'd better go and wait by the car," I said. "We're attracting too much atten –"

"Kiara!" said Chrissie, her eyes gleaming. "The car!"

"What about it?"

"We can fly it to Dragon Mort!"

"But I thought –"

"We're stuck, right? And we've got to get to school, haven't we? And even underage witches are allowed to use magic if it's a real emergency, Section nineteen something of the Restriction of Thingy …"

My feeling of panic suddenly turned to excitement, even though underneath I was still filled with a slight sense of foreboding. But at this point, we both thought that this was the only option that was available to us.

"Can you fly it?"

"No problem. Dad sometimes let each of us fly it around the house a few times, just in case there ever came a time when we would be in real need of using it." She wheeled her trolley round so that it faced the concrete ramp. "C'mon, let's go, if we hurry we'll be able to use the scanner that's installed in the car to catch up with the school's subs."

We walked back to the spot where the Dawsons' car was parked.

Chrissie unlocked the boot of the car with a series of taps from her wand. We hewed our trunks back in, put Harold and Felix in the back seat and got into the front. I was pretty surprised when Chrissie started up the engine and started to change the drive from road to plane.

"Should we check that no one's watching us first?" I asked Chrissie nervously.

"Nah. People have seen this car a load of times before, because of what Sian does –" Chrissie stopped herself at that moment, for she must have realised that she was going to say something she'd regret; for her eyes went wide with shock.

"What does Sian do?" I asked Chrissie.

She laughed nervously and said, "Oh, nothing important, Kiara. Just forget I said anything. Now, let's get us to Dragon Mort." And with that, we were in the air. As the car rose higher in the air, I saw the buildings, cars and people grow smaller beneath us, and the great, beautiful ocean ahead of us, before we turned round and headed towards the spot in the ocean where we knew the Dragon Mort subs would be travelling.

When we got to the ocean, Chrissie switched her hand to the other side of the steering wheel, where a scanner was. She turned it on, typed in "Dragon Mort Subs", and we waited as the radar did its thing. Then we heard a few beeps and Chrissie smiled as she said, "We're on the right track, Kiara. The Dragon Mort subs are right beneath us. All we have to do now is keep following them and we'll be at Dragon Mort in no time – well, as long as we keep going due north, that is."

"Well, let's go into the clouds, now that we know where we're going," I said. "Besides, I don't really like hovering a few feet above the subs like this, like a spy." Chrissie thought about this for a few moments, nodded and then took us up into the clouds.

It was a different world. The wings of the car skimmed the sea of fluffy cloud, the sky a bright, endless blue under the blinding white sun.

"All we've got to worry about now are aeroplanes," said Chrissie.

We looked at each other and started to laugh, and for a long time afterwards we couldn't stop.

It was as though we had been plunged into a fabulous dream. This, I thought at that moment, was surely the only way to travel: past swirls and turrets of snowy cloud, in a car full of hot, bright sunlight, with some sweets and drinks in the travelling compartment between the two front seats of the car, listening to the Muggle radio as we drove, and the prospect of seeing Beth, Kestrel and Chris' jealous faces when we landed smoothly and spectacularly on the sweeping lawn of Dragon Mort.

Chrissie made regular checks on the Scanner in the car to check that we were still going in the right direction as we flew further and further north, whilst we dipped beneath the clouds every now and again, each dip showing us a different view. We could see the coast-line from afar, but the land was always different, from sandy beaches to houses by the sea and the docks as we travelled onwards to Ireland.

Several uneventful hours later, however, I had to admit that the fun was starting to wear off. We had run out of stuff to drink and all the sweets we had eaten had made us extremely thirsty. Chrissie and I had to pull off our jumpers, but my t-shirt was stuck to the back of my seat. I had stopped noticing the fantastic cloud shapes now, and was thinking longingly of the submarines miles below, where you could buy ice-cold pumpkin juice from the sweet tray. _Why_ hadn't we been able to get to the sub house?

"Can't be much further now, can it?" croaked Chrissie hours later still, as the sun started to sink into our floor of cloud, staining it a deep pink. "Ready for another check up on the subs?"

They were still right below us, moving steadily through the sea. We could just about see them, for it was much darker down there, so we looked at the Scanner, and it confirmed that we were still on the right track.

Chrissie put her foot down on the accelerator and drove us upwards again, but as she did so, the engine began to whine.

Chrissie and I exchanged nervous glances.

"It's probably just tired," Chrissie said. "It's never been this far before …"

And we both pretended not to notice the whining growing louder and louder as the sky became steadily darker. Stars were blossoming in the darkness. I pulled my jumper back on, trying to ignore the way the windscreen wipers were now waving feebly, as though in protest.

"Not far," said Chrissie, more to the car than me, "not far now," and she patted the dashboard nervously.

When we flew back beneath the clouds a little while later, we had to squint through the darkness for a landmark we knew.

" _There!"_ I shouted, making Chrissie, Harold and Felix jump. "Straight ahead!"

Silhouetted on the dark horizon, high on the cliff over the river stood the many turrets and towers of Dragon Mort castle.

But the car was beginning to shudder and was losing speed.

"Come on," Chrissie said cajolingly, giving the steering controls a little shake, "nearly there, come on –"

The engine groaned. Narrow jets of steam were issuing from under the bonnet and the picture on the Scanner was starting to waver. I found myself gripping the edges of my seat very hard as we flew towards the river.

The car gave a hasty wobble. Glancing out of my window, I saw the smooth, black, glossy surface of the water a mile below. Chrissie's knuckles were white on the steering controls. The car wobbled again.

"Come _on_ ," Chrissie muttered.

We were over the river … the castle was right ahead … Chrissie put her foot down –

There was a clink, a splutter, and the engine died completely.

"Uh-oh," said Chrissie into the silence.

The nose of the car dropped. We were falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the brick wall.

" _Noooooo!"_ Chrissie yelled, swinging the steering controls round; we missed the dark stone wall by inches as the car turned in a great arc, soaring over the dark green houses, then the vegetable patch and then out over the black lawns, losing height all the time. Chrissie quickly changed the car from "plane mode" back to "car mode", which made the car turn from a car-plane back to a normal car again.

Chrissie let go of the steering wheel completely and pulled her wand out of her back pocket.

"STOP! STOP!" she yelled, whacking the dashboard and the windscreen, but we were still plummeting, the ground flying up towards us.

"MIND THAT TREE!" I bellowed, reaching for the steering wheel, but too late –

CRUNCH.

With an ear-splitting bang of metal on wood, we hit the thick trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was billowing from under the crumpled bonnet; Harold was shrieking in terror, Felix was standing up with her fur on end, hissing and spitting all the while. I could feel a golf ball-sized lump that was throbbing on my head where I had hit the windscreen, and to my right, Chrissie let out a low, despairing groan.

"My wand,"said Chrissie in a shaky voice. "Look at my wand."

It had snapped almost in two; the tip was dangling limply, held on by a few splinters.

I opened my mouth to tell her that I was sure we'd be able to fix it up at the school, but I never even got started. At that very moment, something big hit my side of the car with the force of a charging bull, sending me lurching sideways into Chrissie, just as an equally heavy blow hit the roof.

"What's happen –?"

Chrissie gasped, staring through the windscreen, and I looked around just in time to see a branch as thick as a python smash into it. The tree which we had hit was attacking us. Its trunk was bent almost double, and its gnarled boughs were pummelling every inch of the car it could reach. I can remember now the fear I had running through me, the thought that me and one of my best friends were going to die by a violent tree, the uncomfortable feeling of being almost crushed inside – what would have been a few minutes later, I'm sure – a metal coffin. It was both frightful and awful to have been in a situation like that, and one I hope never to be part of again for the rest of my life. But back to the story.

"Aaargh!" said Chrissie as another twisted limb pinched a large dent into her door; the windscreen was now trembling under a hail of blows from knuckle-like twigs and a branch as thick as a battering ram was pounding furiously on the roof, which seemed to be caving in –

"Run for it!" Chrissie shouted, throwing her full weight against the door, but next second she had been knocked backwards into my lap by a vicious upper cut from another branch.

"We're done for!" she moaned, as the ceiling sagged, but suddenly the floor of the car was vibrating – the engine had re-started.

" _Reverse!"_ I yelled, and the car shot backwards. The tree was still trying to hit us; we could hear its roots creaking as it almost ripped itself up, lashing out at us as we sped out of reach.

"That," panted Chrissie, "was a close one. Well done, car."

The car, however, seemed to have reached the end of its tether. With two smart clunks, the doors flew open and I felt my seat tip sideways: next thing I knew I was sprawled on the damp ground. A loud thud told me that the car was exiting our luggage from the boot. Harold's cage flew through the air and burst open; he rose out of it with a loud, angry screech and sped off towards the castle owlry without a backwards look, as Felix was flung through the air in her basket, but Chrissie caught her before anything bad happened. Then dented, scratched and steaming, the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.

"Come back!" Chrissie yelled after it, brandishing her broken wand. "My parents and Sian are gonna kill me!"

But the car disappeared from view with one last snort of its exhaust.

"Can you _believe_ our luck?" said Chrissie miserably. "Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to get one that hits back."

"I think it's something to do with me," I put in suddenly.

"How so?" Chrissie asked, surprised.

"Well, think about it, Chrissie," I said. "First, a house-elf shows up in my bedroom. Then, we can't get through the barrier to the sub house, and now we almost got killed by a tree. This has to be to do with me, because _clearly_ , someone doesn't want me here this year." I took a few deep breaths to calm me down, then, picking up on something Chrissie said before, I turned to her and said, "So, what did you mean when you said that Sian's going to kill you because of what's happened with the car? I thought it belongs to your parents, along with everything else?"

Chrissie sighed and said, "Well, it does, for now. You see, when Sian turns seventeen, she gets the deed to the house and everything in it, which includes the car. So right now, it really does suck to be me."

She glanced over her shoulder at the ancient tree, which was still flailing its branches threateningly.

"Come on," I said wearily, "we'd better get up to the school."

It wasn't at all the triumphant arrival that we'd imagined, but still, we'd arrived. Stiff, cold and bruised, we seized the end of our trunks and began dragging them up the grassy slope, towards the great oak front doors.

"I think the feast's already started," said Chrissie, dropping her trunk at the foot of the front steps and crossing quietly to look through a brightly lit window. "Hey, Kiara, come and look – it's the Sorting!"

I hurried over, and together, me and Chrissie peered into the Great Hall.

Innumerable candles were hovering in mid-air over six long, crowded tables, making the silver plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling which always mirrored the sky outside was sparkled with stars.

Through the forest of navy Dragon Mort hats, I saw a long line of scared-looking first-years filing into the Great Hall. Beth and Kestrel were amongst them, easily visible because of their visible Dawson-brown hair. Professor Darbus, meanwhile, a bespectacled witch with her hair in a tight bun was placing the famous Dragon Mort sorting stool before the newcomers.

Every year, the new students at Dragon Mort were sorted into their houses by means of the dour Sorting Heads: lion, badger, raven and snake into their houses (Lion-Heart, Badger-Stripes, Raven-Wings and Snake-Eyes). I well remembered sitting on that stool when I was eleven and waited, petrified, for their decision, as I looked up and saw the lion and snake heads arguing over me. For a few horrible seconds I had feared that the snake head was going to hiss loudly and put me in Snake-Eyes, the house that had turned out more dark witches and wizards than any other – but I had ended up in Lion-Heart, along with Chrissie, Sian and Chris. Last term, me and Chrissie had helped Lion-Heart win the House Championship, beating Snake-Eyes for the first time in seven years.

A very small, mousey-haired girl had been called forward to sit on the stool. My eyes worked past her to where Professor Crighton, the headmistress, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, her long caramel-silver hair burning a strange golden-white in the candlelight; which was strange, for if you remember from the first book, she came in _after_ the Sorting ceremony was over. Anyhoo, several seats along, I saw Giselle Gold, dressed in robes of aquamarine. And there at the end was Mina, huge as ever, drinking deeply from her goblet.

As I looked further up the staff table, I saw something rather odd.

"Hang on …" I muttered to Chrissie. "There's an empty chair at the staff table … Where's Triphorm?"

Professor Tiana Triphorm was my least favourite teacher. I also happened to be Triphorm's least favourite student. Cruel, sarcastic and disliked by everybody except the students from her own house (Snake-Eyes), Triphorm taught Potions.

"Maybe she's ill?" said Chrissie hopefully.

"Maybe she's _left_ ," I said, "because she missed out on the Defence Against the Dark Arts job _again_!"

"She might have been _sacked_!" said Chrissie enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates her –"

"Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind us, "she's waiting to hear why you two didn't show up on one of the school sub's."

I spun round. There, her red robes rippling in a cold breeze, stood Tiana Triphorm. She was a thin woman with sallow skin, a hooked nose, and greasy, shoulder-length, strawberry-blonde hair, and at this moment, she was smiling in a way that told me and Chrissie that we were both in really big trouble.

"Follow me," said Triphorm.

Not even daring to look at each other, me and Chrissie followed Triphorm up the steps into the vague-echoing Entrance Hall, which was lit up with flaming torches. A delicious smell of food was wafting from the Great Hall, but Triphorm led us to away from the warmth and the light, down a narrow stone staircase that led into the dungeons.

"In!" she said, opening a door halfway down the cold passageway and pointing.

We entered Triphorm's office, shivering. The shadowy walls were lined with shelves of large glass jars, in which floated a manner of all revolting things, which I didn't want to know the names of at the moment. The fireplace was dark and empty. Triphorm closed the door and looked at us.

"So," she said softly, "the submarines aren't good enough the famous Kiara Pride-Lander and her faithful sidekick, Dawson. Wanted to arrive with a _bang_ , did we, girls?"

"No, ma'am, it was the barrier at the Dover docks, it's –"

"Silence!" said Triphorm coldly. "What have you done with the car?"

Chrissie gulped. This wasn't the first time that Triphorm had given me the impression of being able to read minds. But a moment later, I understood, as Triphorm unrolled that day's issue of the _Evening Squabbler_.

"You were seen," she hissed, showing us the headline, which I remember well, for it's been stuck in my head practically ever since: _FLYING STRANGE-LOOKING CAR MYSTIFIES MUGGLES_. She began to read aloud. " "Two Muggles in Dover were convinced that they saw a car-like vehicle flying over the Post Office tower … at noon in Blackpool, Mrs Doris Clarke, whilst on the beach … Mr Arnie Pickle of Southport, reported to the police" … six or seven Muggles in all. I believe _your_ father works at the Ministry of Magic?" she said, looking up at Chrissie and smiling more nastily. "Dear, dear … his own daughter …"

I felt at that moment as though I had been walloped in the stomach by one of the mad tree's larger branches. If anyone found out that Mr Dawson and Joey magically added features to a car that they had found … I hadn't thought of that …

"I noticed in the search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Bashing Tree," Triphorm went on.

"That tree did more damage to _us_ than we –" Chrissie blurted out.

" _Silence!"_ snapped Triphorm again. "Most unfortunately, you are not in my house and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power. You will wait here."

Chrissie and I stared at each other, white-faced.

" _I thought you said that everyone had seen that car!"_ I hissed at Chrissie.

" _I know, so did I,"_ she hissed back. After that, we were silent. I didn't feel hungry anymore. I now felt extremely sick. I tried my hardest not to look at a large, slimy something suspended in green liquid on a shelf behind Triphorm's desk. If Triphorm had gone to fetch Professor Darbus, Head of Lion-Heart house, we were hardly any better off. She might be fairer than Triphorm, but she was still extremely strict.

Ten minutes later, Triphorm returned, and sure enough it was Professor Darbus who accompanied her. I had seen Professor Darbus angry on several occasions, but, I thought at that moment, either I had forgotten how thin her mouth could go, or I had never seen her that angry before. She raised her wand the moment she entered. Me and Chrissie both flinched, but she merely pointed it at the empty fireplace, where flames suddenly erupted.

"Sit," she said, and we both backed into chairs by the fire.

"Explain," she said, her glasses glinting ominously.

Chrissie launched into the story, starting with the barrier at the docks.

"… so we had no choice, Professor, we couldn't get on one of the submarines."

"Why didn't you send us a letter by owl? I believe _you_ have an owl?" Professor Darbus said coldly to me.

I gaped at her. As soon as she said that, it seemed to me the most obvious thing to have done.

"I – I didn't think –"

" _That_ ," said Professor Darbus, "is obvious."

There was a knock on the office door, followed by a loud, screaming voice which I recognised, and Triphorm, now looking happier than ever, opened it. There stood the headmistress, Professor Crighton, and my suspicions were correct, for standing next to her was Sian, Crighton's eldest daughter. I had never seen Sian look so angry before. I looked at Chrissie as she gulped, for she was trembling and was white with fear. I looked from her back to Sian, who had a look of pure, cold fury on her face as she looked from me to Chrissie, who yelled and then started to run right at us. Chrissie and I backed into the chairs as Professor Crighton held her.

"Ma, please, let me go," said Sian, after a few deep, calming breaths, and her eyes went from mad to calm again. "I just want to talk to them." Crighton looked at her daughter for a few moments, nodded and let Sian go. Muttering a "thank you" to her, Sian turned to face us.

"I am _extremely_ disappointed and infuriated with you both! Chrissie, you know as well as I do that that was _my_ car, and you had no right to use it no matter the situation, unless you had my permission to do so first! Now thanks to you two, I now have no car, and our father could lose his job because of the foolish thing you both have done! And besides, you both have _phones_ on you, for crying out loud! Either of you could have called me, I would have told Dad and he could have sorted something out with the help that he has got at the Ministry."

Me and Chrissie looked at each other, stunned.

"We didn't think of that, either," I said.

"Humph!" Sian scoffed. "That's obvious, Kiara."

The things that Sian said had hit Chrissie and I hard, but strong words as they were that she had said to us, they acted like a sort of tonic, but Professor Crighton made my whole body go numb. She looked from Sian to us, and she was looking unusually grave. She stared down her crooked nose at me and Chrissie. I suddenly found myself wishing that me and Chrissie were still being beaten up by the Bashing Tree.

There was a long silence. Then Crighton said, "Please explain why you did this."

It would have been far better if Crighton had shouted like Sian. I hated to hear the disappointment in her voice. For some strange reason, I was unable to look Crighton in the eyes, and spoke instead to my knees. I told Crighton everything, except that Mr Dawson and Joey made the car, making it sound as though me and Chrissie happened to find a flying car parked just outside of the docks. I knew that Crighton would see through this at once, but Crighton asked no more questions about the car. When I had finished, she merely continued to peer at us.

"We'll go and get our stuff, then," said Chrissie, in a hopeless sort of voice.

"What are you talking about, Miss Dawson?" barked Professor Darbus.

"You're going to expel us, aren't you?" said Chrissie.

I looked up at Crighton.

"Not today, Christina," said Crighton. "But I must impress upon you both the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to your homes tonight and I must warn you that if you do anything like this again, I'll have no choice but to expel you."

Triphorm looked as though Christmas had been cancelled. She cleared her throat and said, "Professor Crighton, these girls have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old, valuable tree … Surely acts of this nature –"

"It will be for Professor Darbus to decide what will be the punishment for these girls, Tiana," said Crighton calmly. "They are in her house and are therefore her responsibility."

"Should you tell Chrissie, Ma, or should I tell her what we've agreed upon?" said Sian suddenly, before her mother could say anything more.

Crighton turned to her eldest daughter, and said, "It's all right, Sian. I'll tell your sister."

"Tell me what, Ma?" said Chrissie, looking nervously at Crighton.

Sian nodded at her mother, who turned to Chrissie and said, "Me and Sian have both agreed that until further notice, we will be taking pocket money off you to pay for the damages to the car."

"But Ma –"

"No but's, no if's, no nothing," Sian jumped in. "You've done wrong, Chrissie, and this is the best way that myself and Ma can think of to make sure that you've learnt your lesson."

"Your sister is right, Christina," said Crighton. Chrissie then bowed her head in shame and nodded twice.

Sian, who seemed satisfied, said to her mother, "Shall we go, Ma? For I think we've done all we can here, and we really need to get back to the feast."

"Yes, Sian, you're right. We'll go together in a moment." Sian walked over to the door as Crighton turned to Darbus. "Deidre, I've got to give out a few notices, so I'll leave those two with you." She nodded at me and Chrissie. "Come, Tiana, Sian, there's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample."

Triphorm shot a look of pure venom at me and Chrissie as she allowed herself to be swept out of her office, leaving us alone with Darbus – for Sian had followed her mother out of the room, and as the door closed behind them, we could hear Sian saying, "I'm glad to be put of there, Mother, for I couldn't stand to be in the same room as Chrissie a moment longer." Anyhoo, Darbus was still eyeing us like a wrathful eagle.

"You'd better get off to the hospital wing, Miss Dawson, for you're bleeding."

"Not much," said Chrissie, hastily wiping the cut over her eye with her sleeve. "Professor, I wanted to watch my sisters being Sorted –"

"The Sorting Ceremony is over," said Professor Darbus. "You're sisters are both in Lion-Heart."

"Oh, good," sighed Chrissie.

"And speaking of Lion-Heart –" Professor Darbus said sharply, but I cut in. "Professor, when we took the car, term hadn't started, so – so Lion-Heart shouldn't really have any points taken from it, should it?" I finished, watching her anxiously.

Professor Darbus gave me a piercing look, but was sure she had almost smiled. Her mouth looked less thin anyway.

"I will not take points from Lion-Heart," she said, and my heart lightened considerably. "But you will both get a detention."

It was better than I had expected. As for Crighton's writing to my Grandmother's, well, I knew that they would be disappointed in me and would make me promise never to do anything like this ever again, but I knew they'd be pleased that the Bashing Tree didn't kill me, so that was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Professor Darbus raised her wand again and pointed it at Triphorm's desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets and a jug of iced pumpkin juice appeared with a _pop_.

"You will eat here and go straight to your dormitory," she said. "I must also return to the feast."

When the door had closed behind her, Chrissie let out a low whistle.

"I thought we'd had it," she said, grabbing a sandwich.

"So did I," I said, taking one too.

"Can you believe our luck, though?" said Chrissie thickly through a mouthful of chicken and ham. "Sian must've taken that car out loads of times, and a lot of Muggles knew about it. After all, _almost_ every Muggle in the world knows about that car, never mind our kind." She swallowed and took another huge bite. " _Why_ couldn't we get through the barrier?"

I shrugged. "We'll have to watch our step from now on, though," I said, taking a grateful swig of pumpkin juice. "Wish we could've gone up to the feast …"

"She didn't want us showing off," said Chrissie sagely. "Doesn't want people to think it's clever, arriving by flying car."

When we had eaten as many sandwiches as we could (the plate kept re-filling itself) we rose and left the office, treading the familiar path to Lion-Heart Tower. The castle was quiet; it seemed that the feast was over. We walked past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armour, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last we reached the secret passage to Lion-Heart Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a fat man in blue velvet robes.

"Password?" he said, as we approached.

"Er –" I said.

We didn't know the new year's password, not having met a Lion-Heart Prefect on the way up, but help came almost immediately; we heard running feet behind us and turned to see Chris, dashing towards us, closely followed by Sian, her hair standing on end, who was determinedly looking anywhere except at me and Chrissie.

"There you two are! _Where_ have you _been_?" said Chris, who sounded worried. "Sian was telling me over dinner the most ridiculous –"

"It's _not_ ridiculous, Rickers!" Sian snapped.

"Well, story then. Anyhoo, many people are talking that you both are being expelled for flying our car. You're not, are you?" I assured Chris that all was fine.

"You're not telling me you _did_ fly it?" said Chris, who sounded almost pleased.

"Yeah, we did," I said.

"Awesome!" said Chris, who then burst out laughing. Sian, however, was not.

"It's _not funny_ , Rickers!" Sian said, sounding as severe as Professor Darbus did. "Honestly, they're very lucky not to have been expelled more than anything else."

"Skip the lecture," said Chrissie impatiently, "and tell us the password."

"It's Wattlebird," said Sian impatiently, "but that's not the point –"

Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the Fat Lord opened and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Lion-Heart house was still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lop-sided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for us to arrive. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull me and Chrissie inside, leaving Sian and Chris to scramble in after us.

" _Brilliant!"_ yelled Leah Jordan. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Bashing Tree; people'll be talking about that one for years!"

Tanya and Geri Fang, cousins to the Dawsons, who were identical down to the last strand of hair, came over to us next and said, "Why didn't you call on us to come, too?"

"Good on you," said a fifth-year I had never spoken to before; someone was patting me on the back as though I had just run a marathon. Zara Finn, Dena Wright and Nikita Bore, a few of our friends in our year, came up to us.

" _Unbelievable!"_ beamed Zara.

" _Cool,"_ said Dena.

" _Amazing,"_ said Nikita, awestruck.

Chrissie was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but I could see one person who didn't look happy at all. Perdy Fang, Tanya and Geri's older sister, was visible over the heads of some excited first-years, and she seemed to be trying to get near enough to start telling us off. I nudged Chrissie in the ribs and nodded in Perdy's direction. Chrissie got the point at once.

"Got to get upstairs – bit tired," she said, and the two of us started pushing our way towards the door on the other side of the room, which led to a spiral staircase, and the boys' and girls' dormitories."

"'Night," I called to Chris, who was still laughing.

We managed to get to the other side of the common room, still having our backs slapped, and gained the peace of the door which led to the girls' dormitories. We opened the door, went right to the top of the staircase to a door which had a sign over it, which read, _"Special Bedroom"_. We entered the familiar, circular room, with it's now five four-poster beds – seeing as Beth and Kestrel had come – hung with pink silk curtains and its high, narrow windows, and noticing sweets next to our dressing tables. Our trunks had been brought up for us and lay at the end of our beds.

Chrissie grinned guiltily at me.

"I know we shouldn't have enjoyed that or anything, but –"

Her words were cut short as the door burst open and Sian came in, wiping the smile off of Chrissie's face. She still looked quite cross with us, and I could have swore that then ends of her hair were smoking slightly, but I thought that I was imagining things (turns out I wasn't, but more of that in the last book in this series). Sian crossed the room without saying anything or looking at me and Chrissie, took off her uniform, put on her pyjamas, got into bed and swung the hangings shut without a word.

I looked quickly at Chrissie, confused.

"Sian's temper is pretty bad," said Chrissie, in answer to my confused look. "She will have calmed down by tomorrow, but because her temper's this high, I would advise you not to talk to her, believe me, I know her better than you do. I don't want Sian to explode on our first day back, and I've seen Sian explode before. It's not pretty, trust me."

"Why, what happens when Sian's anger explodes?" I asked Chrissie.

Chrissie shuddered and took a sweet from her dressing table. I wondered what could be so horrible when Sian let her anger spill out on her family. The fact that Chrissie hadn't answered me had to be a sign that it must be something terrible that frightened Chrissie, otherwise she would have told me. I thought that I had seen the worst part of Sian's temper earlier on that evening, but this told me that I was mistaken. I was to learn how extreme Sian's temper would be, but that was in the Great Battle, which we'll get to later on.

However, I had no time to think about Sian's temper, because at that moment the door flew open again, with the arrival of Beth and Kestrel.

"You could've called us back, you know," Beth said, grinning slightly. I looked at Kestrel, who was trying not to smile, but was failing.

"I see that Sian's in bed," said Kestrel, nodding at the far end. "Is she angry with you, Chrissie?" she said, turning to Chrissie.

"Yeah, she is," she sighed.

"Best not wake her until morning, then," said Kestrel, as she and Beth moved towards their beds.

"Yeah. After all," said Beth, as she was starting to get undressed, "we all know what Sian's like when she explodes."

"Mmm," said Chrissie and Kestrel together, nodding.

"Why, what happens?" I asked of Beth and Kestrel.

The two girls looked at each other, then looked back at me and said together, slowly, "It's best if you don't know." Then they continued to get changed. I looked at Chrissie, who nodded in agreement with that statement, smiled at me and started to get changed. When I looked back at Beth and Kestrel, they were grinning at me again.

They were still grinning when they got into bed. I was still thinking about Sian, but I couldn't help it, and grinned too.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **Giselle Gold – who Would Later on go on to be Known as one of the Worst Teachers this School has Ever Known (Well, Apart From Darryl Umber , That is)**

 **KIARA**

The morning after the events of the previous day with the car, however, I barely smiled once. Things started to go downhill when we entered the Great Hall for breakfast. The six tables were laden with porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling, which today was a dull, cloudy grey (how little did I know that that ceiling exactly fitted my mood by the end of the day). Chrissie and I sat down at the Lion-Heart table next to Sian and Chris. Chris greeted us with a friendly "Good morning" when we sat down; Sian, on the other hand, carried on reading her edition of _Voyage with the Vampire_ propped open against a milk jug. There was a cold stiffness in the way she said "Morning", which told me and Chrissie that she still disapproved of the way we had arrived. Beth and Kestrel greeted us just as cheerfully as Chris had done, so that was all right.

"Post's due any minute – hope Dad'll send us some sweets from home," said Kestrel.

I had only just started on my porridge when, sure enough, as Sian shouted "Mail call!" there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the Hall and dropping packages and letters into the chattering crowd. A few large baskets filled with sweets landed in front of Sian, and a second later, something large and grey fell into Sian's jug, splashing us all in milk and feathers.

" _Arrol!"_ said Chrissie, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Arrol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.

"Oh no –" Chrissie gasped.

"It's all right, he's still alive," I said, prodding Arrol gently with the tip of my finger.

Chrissie was pointing at the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary to me, but the Dawsons and Chris were eyeing it as though they expected it to explode.

"What's the matter?" I said.

"Ma's sent her a Howler," Sian said, "and by the looks of it, it's in her handwriting, too."

Chrissie groaned.

"You'd better open it, Chrissie," said Chris in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't. Ma sent me one once, and I ignored it. It was horrible."

"Ma's Howlers are the worst ever," said Kestrel, as Beth nodded.

I looked from their petrified faces to the red envelope.

"What's a Howler?" I asked.

But Chrissie's attention was fixed on the letter, which had now begun to smoke at the corners.

"Open it," Chris urged. "It'll all be over in a few minutes …"

Chrissie stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Arrol's beak and slit it open. Chris stuffed his fingers in his ears. A few seconds later, I knew why. A fiery form of Professor Crighton rose out of the letter, glared at Chrissie and then began to speak. I thought for a moment it had exploded; a roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"… _STEALING THE CAR, I COULD HAVE EXPELLED YOU, BUT I DIDN'T THROUGH MY KINDNESS, YOU WAIT UNTIL YOUR FATHER GETS HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND JOEY WENT THROUGH WHEN THEY SAW IT HAD GONE AND CALLED ME …"_

Crighton's yells, a hundred times louder than normal yelling – and which seemed strange to me, seeing as she usually spoke so calm – made the plates and spoons rattle on the table and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the Hall were swivelling around to see who had received the Howler and Chrissie sank so low in her chair that only her brown forehead could be seen.

"… _I CALLED YOUR FATHER LAST NIGHT AND TOLD HIM WHAT HAPPENED, AND HE TOLD ME HE ALMOST DIED OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND KIARA COULD BOTH HAVE DIED …"_

I had been wondering when my name would come into it. I tried very hard to look as though I couldn't hear the voice that was making my eardrums throb.

"… _ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED, YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT, AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, THEN NOT ONLY WILL I EXPEL YOU, BUT YOUR FATHER WILL COME AND BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME!"_

Crighton then screamed and burst into flames along with the envelope and a ringing silence fell. And that was the first and only time in my life that I had heard Crighton yell like that, and the words that she said have remained in my mind for a very long time after that, as they would with anyone. Anyhoo, after the explosion of the Howler, me and Chrissie sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over us. A few people laughed and gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.

Sian put down _Voyage with the Vampire_ , looked at me and said, "And that is why you don't want to get a Howler from our mother, Kiara." I nodded at her in understanding, before she smiled grimly and looked down at the top of Chrissie's head.

"Well, I don't know what you expected Chrissie, but you –"

"Don't tell me I deserved it," snapped Chrissie.

I pushed my porridge away. My insides were crawling with guilt. Mr Dawson was facing an inquiry at work. After all Sian and her father had done for me that summer …

But I had no time to dwell on this; Professor Darbus was moving along our table, handing out timetables. I looked down at mine and saw that we had double Herbology with the Badger-Stripes first.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch and made for the greenhouses where the magical plants were kept. At least the Howler had done one good thing: Sian had seemed to think that we had been punished enough and was being friendly again.

As we neared the greenhouses, we saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Spud. Chrissie, Sian, Chris and I had only just joined them when he came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Giselle Gold. Spud's arms were full of bandages, and with another twinge of guilt, I spotted the Bashing Tree in the distance, several of its branches in slings.

Professor Spud, or "Spud" as he preferred to be called because he hated the term _Professor_ , was a plump wizard who wore a patched hat over his curly hair; there was usually a large amount of dirt on his clothes, and his fingernails would have made Aunt Mavuto faint. Giselle Gold, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, her golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.

"Oh, hello there!" Gold called, beaming around at us assembled students. "Just been showing Spud here the right way to doctor a Bashing Tree! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than he is! Just so happens to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels …"

"Greenhouse Three today, dudes!" said Spud, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all his usual cheery self.

There was a murmur of interest buzzing between all of us. Before this point, we had only ever worked in Greenhouse One before – Greenhouse Three hosted far more interesting and dangerous plants. Spud took a large key from his belt and unlocked the door. I caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer, mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. I was about to follow Chris, Sian and Chrissie inside when Gold's hand shot out.

"Kiara! I've been wanting a word – you don't mind if she's a couple of minutes late, do you, Spud?"

Judging by Spud's scowl, he did mind, but Gold said, "That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in his face.

"Kiara," said Gold, her large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as she shook her head. "Kiara, Kiara, Kiara."

Completely nonplussed, I said nothing.

"When I heard – well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself."

I had no idea what she was talking about. I was going to say so when Gold went on, "Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Dragon Mort! Well, of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Kiara, Kiara, _Kiara_."

It was remarkable how she could show every one of those brilliant teeth even when she wasn't talking.

"Gave you a taste of publicity, didn't I?" said Gold. "Gave you the _bug_. You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again."

"Oh – no, Professor, see –"

"Kiara, Kiara, Kiara," said Gold, grasping my shoulder. " _I understand_. Natural to want a bit more once you've had that first taste – and I blame myself for giving you that, because it was bound to go to your head – but see here, young lady, you can't start _flying cars_ to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down, all right? Plenty of time for all that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking! "It's all right for her, she's an internationally famous witch already!" but when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now. In fact, I'd say I was even _more_ of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of you, haven't they? All that business with She Who Must Not Be Named!" She glanced at the flame-shaped scar on my forehead. "I know, I know, it's not quite as good as winning _Wizard Weekly's Most Dazzling Smile Award_ five times in a row, as I have – but it's a _start_ , Kiara, it's a _start_."

She gave me a hearty wink and strode off. I stood stunned for a few seconds, and then I remembered that I was supposed to be in the greenhouse, I opened the door and slid inside.

Spud was standing behind a trestle bench in the centre of the greenhouse. About thirty pairs of different coloured earmuffs were lying on the bench. When I had taken my place between Sian and Chris, he said, "We'll be re-potting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

To nobody's surprise, Sian's hand was first in the air.

"Mandrake, and Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Sian, sounding as though she had just swallowed the whole textbook, as per usual. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed, to their original state."

"Eldest D-Girl's right. Ten points to Lion-Heart," said Spud. "Now, the Mandrake is an essential part of most antidotes. However, it is also dangerous. Can any of you tell me why?"

Sian's hand narrowly missed my head as it shot up again.

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," she said promptly.

"Eldest D-Girl strikes again. Take another ten points," said Spud. "Now the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

He pointed to a row of deep trays as he spoke and we all shuffled forwards for a better look. A hundred or so tufty plants, purplish green in colour, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable to me, and I didn't understand what Sian meant by the "cry" of the Mandrake. But I would in a few moments.

"Right then, peeps, grab you a pair of earmuffs," said Spud.

There was a scramble as we all tried to grab a pair that wasn't fluffy and pink.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," said Spud. "When it's safe to remove them, I'll give you the thumbs-up. Right – 'muffs on."

I snapped the earmuffs over my ears. They shut out sound completely. Spud put a black pair over his own ears, rolled up the sleeves of his robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

I let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear.

Instead of roots, a small, muddy and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.

Spud took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in the dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Spud dusted off his hands, gave us the thumbs-up and removed his own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill you yet," he said calmly, as though he had just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. "Howev's, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your 'muffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.

"Five to a tray – there's a large supply of pots here – compost in the sacks over there – and be careful of the venomous Tentacula – its teething."

He gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as he spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over his shoulder.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I were joined at our tray by a curly-haired Badger-Stripes girl I knew by sight, but had never spoken to before then.

"Justine Cole," she said brightly, shaking my hand. "No need to ask who you are, of course, the famous Kiara Pride-Lander … and you're Sian Dawson – always top in everything …" Sian beamed as she had her hand shaken too. "Chris Rickers, close behind Sian with grades, and Chrissie Dawson, Sian's twin, though you'd never know it by sight. Wasn't that your flying car?"

Chrissie didn't smile. The Howler was obviously still on her mind.

"That Gold's something, isn't she?" said Justine happily, as we began filling our plant pots with dragon-dung compost. "Awfully brave woman. Have you read her books? I'd have died of fear if I'd been cornered into a telephone box by myself, but she stayed cool and – zap – just _fantastic_.

"My name was down for Meols Cop, you know, I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed; but since I made her read Gold's books I think she's beginning to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained witch in the family …"

After that we didn't have much chance to talk. Our earmuffs were back on and we needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Spud had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists and gnashed their teeth; I remember I spent ten whole minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot.

By the end of the class, me, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching and covered in earth. We traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then we Lion-Hearts hurried off to Transfiguration.

Professor Darbus' classes were always hard work, but that day I remember they were especially difficult. Everything I had learnt in my first year seemed to have leaked out of my head over that summer. I was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all I managed to do was give my beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the desktop, avoiding my wand.

However, my problems were not as bad as Chrissie's were. She had patched up her wand with some borrowed Sellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparkling at odd moments, and every time Chrissie tried to transfigure her beetle it engulfed her in thick grey smoke which smelled of rotten eggs. Unable to see what she was doing, Chrissie accidentally squashed her beetle with her elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor Darbus was not pleased.

I was relieved to hear the lunch bell. My brain felt like a wrung sponge. Everyone filed out of the classroom except for me, Sian, Chris and Chrissie, who was whacking her wand furiously on the desk.

"Stupid … useless … thing …"

"Why don't you write home for another one?" I suggested, as the wand let off a valley of bangs like a firecracker.

"Oh yeah, and get another Howler back from Ma," said Chrissie, stuffing the now hissing wand into her bag. _"It's your own fault your wand got snapped –"_

We went down to lunch, and Chrissie's mood was not improved by Sian showing us the handful of perfect coat buttons she had produced in Transfiguration.

"What've we got this afternoon?" I said, hastily changing the subject.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Chris at once.

" _Why_ ," said Sian at once, seizing his timetable, "have you outlined all Gold' lessons with pink?"

Chris snatched the timetable back, flushing furiously.

We finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Sian sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in _Voyage with the Vampire_ again. Chris, Chrissie and I stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes before I was aware that we were being closely watched. Looking around, I saw the very small, mousey-haired girl I'd seen being Sorted the night before, staring at me as though transfixed. She was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment I looked at her, she turned bright red.

"All right, Kiara?" I'm – I'm Colleen McCreevy," she said breathlessly in a strong Scottish accent, and taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Lion-Heart, too. I think – would it be all right if – could I have a picture?" she said, raising the camera hopefully.

"A picture?" I repeated blankly.

"So I can prove I've met you," said Colleen McCreevy eagerly, edging further forwards. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me how you survived when She You Know tried to kill you and how she disappeared and everything and how you've still got a flame scar on your forehead," (her eyes raked my hairline) "and a girl in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll _move_." Colleen drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's brilliant here, isn't it? I knew I had magic in me and was so pleased when I got my letter. My mum works at the Ministry and she was thrilled, so she bought me this camera. I'm sending loads of pictures home to her. And it'd be really good if I had one of you –" she looked imploringly at me, "– maybe one of your friends could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

" _Signed photos_? You're giving out _signed photos_ , Pride-Lander?"

Loud and scathing, Dani Malty's voice echoed around the courtyard. She had stopped right behind Colleen, flanked, as she always was at Dragon Mort, by her cousin, Keziah Rae-Bradley, and their large and thuggish cronies, Crate and Gabber.

"Everyone queue up!" Rae-Bradley roared to the crowd. "Kiara Pride-Lander's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," I said, annoyed. "Shut up, Malty."

"You're just jealous," piped up Colleen, whose entire body was about as thick as Crate's neck.

" _Jealous?"_ said Malty, who didn't need to shout anymore; half the courtyard was listening in. "Of what? I don't need a foul scar right across my forehead, thanks."

"Yeah, and besides," Rae-Bradley cut in, "I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

"Good one, Kez," said Malty, as Crate and Gabber sniggered stupidly.

"Eat slugs, Malty," said Chrissie angrily. Crate stopped laughing and started rubbing her conker-like knuckles in a menacing way.

"Yeah, back off, Malty," said Chris, as he stood next to Chrissie.

"Be careful, Dawson," sneered Malty. "You don't want to start any trouble or your mummy'll have to ask your dad to come and take you away from school." She put on a shrill, piercing voice. _"If you put another toe out of line –"_

A lot of Snake-Eyes firth-years laughed loudly at this.

"Dawson would like a signed photo, Pride-Lander," smirked Malty, nodding at Chrissie. "It'd be worth the same as her whole house and everything in it."

Chrissie whipped out her wand, but Sian, who was known as the "voice of reason" in her family at the times when she was around, snapped shut _Voyage with the Vampire_ and whispered, "Look out!"

"What's all this, what's all this?" Giselle Gold was striding towards us, her turquoise robes swirling behind her. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

I started to speak but was cut short as Gold flung an arm around my shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Kiara!"

Pinned to Gold's side and my face burning with humiliation, I saw Malty slide smirking back into the crowd.

"Come on then, Miss McCreevy," said Gold, beaming at Colleen. "A double portrait, can't say fairer than that, and we'll _both_ sign it for you."

Colleen fumbled for her camera and took the picture as the bell rang behind us, signalling the start of afternoon classes.

"Off you go, move along there," Gold called to the crowd, and she set off back to the castle with me, who all the while was wishing that I knew a good vanishing spell, still clasped to her side.

"A word of the wise, Kiara," said Gold paternally as we entered the building through a side door, "I covered up for you back there with young McCreevy – if she was photographing me too, your schoolfellows won't think you're setting yourself up so much …"

Deaf to my stammers, Gold swept me down a corridor lined with staring students and up a staircase.

"Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible – looks a tad bigheaded, Kiara, to be frank. There may be a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but –" she gave a little chortle, "I don't think your quite there yet."

We had reached Gold's classroom and she let me go at last. I yanked my robes straight and headed for a seat at the very back of the class, where I busied myself with piling all seven of Gold's books in front of me, so as to avoid looking at the real thing.

The rest of the class came clattering in and Chris, Sian and Chrissie sat down next to me.

"You could've fried an egg on your face," said Chrissie. "You'd better hope McCreevy doesn't meet Chr – _someone_ here," she said quickly, "or next thing you know, they'll be starting a Kiara Pride-Lander Fan Club together.

"Shut up," I snapped. The last thing I needed at that moment was for Gold to hear the phrase "Kiara Pride-Lander Fan Club".

When the class was seated, Gold cleared her throat loudly and silence fell. She reached forward, picked up Nikita's copy of _Travelling with Trolls_ and held it up it show the rest of the class.

"Me," she said, looking at it and winking as well, "Giselle Gold, _Order of Merlin_ , _Third Class_ , Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five time's winner of _Wizard Weekly's Most Dazzling Smile Award_ – but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by _smiling_ at her!"

She waited for us to laugh; a few of us smiled meekly.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books – well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about – just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in …"

When she had handed out the test papers she returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes. Start – _now_!"

I looked down at my paper and read:

 _1\. What is Giselle Gold's favourite colour?_

 _2\. What is Giselle Gold's secret ambition?_

 _3\. What, in your opinion, is Giselle Gold's greatest achievement to date?_

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

 _54\. What is Giselle Gold's birthday, and what would her ideal gift be?_

Half an hour later, Gold collected in the papers and rifled through them in front of us.

"Tut, tut – hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is coral; I say so in _Years with the Yetis_. And a few of you have to read _Wandering with the Werewolf Pack_ a bit more carefully – I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be to establish harmony between all magic and non-magic creatures – though I wouldn't say no to a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"

She gave us another roguish wink. Chrissie was now staring at Gold with a look of pure disbelief on her face, whilst Sian was looking at Gold with pure disgust; Zara Finn and Dena Wright, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Chris, on the other hand, was listening to Gold with rapt attention, and he and Sian both gave a start when she mentioned their names.

"… but Miss Sian Dawson and Mr Christopher Rickers knew my secret is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions – good people! In fact –" she flipped over their papers, "full marks! Where are Miss Sian Dawson and Mr Christopher Rickers?"

Sian, who looked bored, raised her hand straight in the air; Chris, on the other hand, raised a trembling hand slowly in the air, looking intensely at Gold.

"Excellent!" beamed Gold. "Quite excellent! Take twenty points for Lion-Heart!"

Chris looked surprised and pleased at the news; Sian, however, shrugged her shoulders and twirled her hair. I thought this was odd, for Sian usually liked praise for teachers, but I discovered why she wasn't so pleased with that a little bit later. But I was interrupted in my thought process by Gold saying, "And so to business …

"Now – be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizard kind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

In spite of myself, I leaned round my pile of books for a better look at the cage. Gold placed a hand over the cover. Dena and Zara had stopped laughing now. Nikita was cowering in her seat and Sian had stopped twirling her hair and was paying close attention to what Gold was saying now.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Gold in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

"We all held our breath as Gold whipped off the cover.

"Is that all?" Sian said unimpressed, back to twirling her hair again.

"Yes," she said dramatically. " _Freshly caught Gremlin Pixies_."

Zara Finn couldn't control herself. She let out a snort of laughter which even Gold couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" she smiled at Zara.

"Well, they're not – they're not very – _dangerous_ , are they?" Zara choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Gold, waggling a finger annoyingly at Zara. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

The pixies were darkish green with yellow stripes and yellow bellies in colour, who were about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and pulling bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Right then," said Gold loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And she opened the cage.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Nikita by the ears and lifted her into the air. Several shot through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, upended the waste bin, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed windows; within minutes, half of us were sheltering under the desks and Nikita was swinging from the candelabra in the ceiling.

"Come on, now, round them up, round them up, they're only pixies …" Gold shouted. She then rolled up her sleeves, brandished her wand and bellowed, _"Peskipixi Pestermoni!"_

It had no effect whatsoever; one of the pixies seized Gold's wand and threw it out of the window too. Gold gulped and dived under her own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Nikita, who fell a second later as the candelabra gave way.

The bell rang and there was a mad rush towards the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Gold straightened up, caught sight of me, Chris, Sian and Chrissie, who were almost at the door, and said, "Well, I'll just ask you four to put the rest of them back into their cage." She then swept past us and shut the door quickly behind her.

"Can you _believe_ her?" roared Chrissie, as one of the pixies bit her painfully on the ear.

"She just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Chris, who was trying to whack some of the pixies with a book.

" _Hands on?"_ I said, whilst trying to grab a pixie that was out of reach with its tongue out. "Chris, she didn't have a clue what she was doing."

 _"Rubbish,"_ said Chris, who was still trying to whack pixies with a book. "You've read her books – look at all the amazing things she's done …"

" _Immobulous!"_ said Sian suddenly, which made us jump and whip round; all the pixies were immobilised in the air. "Kiara, grab the cage and make it face towards me," she said without looking at me, as she began to whirl her wand around and round up all the pixies. I got the cage and held the opening towards Sian. "Good," she said without looking at me. "Now do me a favour and hang on tight to the cage, 'cause this is gonna give you quite a kick."

I didn't understand what she mean, but I did a second later, for she suddenly sent the pixies flying pell-mell back inside their cage. Then, with another wave of her wand, the door of the cage was shut. We then fell back against the desks, panting and resting for a few moments.

"Nice going, Sian," I said.

"Yeah, you totally saved us," said Chrissie.

"Brilliant as usual S.D.!" said Chris.

"No problem," said Sian breathlessly. When we had caught our breath, we got our bags and remaining books, quills and ink and shuffled out of the room and closed the door behind us, because we were slightly scared that the pixie cage would burst open and the pixies would unfreeze, burst out of their cage and start to attack us again.

"Honestly, that teacher!" Sian burst out suddenly.

"Oh, not you too, Sian!" sighed Chris.

"Well, what do you expect me to say, Rickers? I mean, she's meant to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and yet she can't even round up a bunch of pixies, and leaves us kids in charge of them! I mean, what kind of example is that setting?"

"Er – how about saying that she's teaching us how we should take care of ourselves in future?" suggested Chris.

"Oh come on, Chris. Open your eyes here, OK. The woman obviously had no idea of what she was doing."

"Chrissie's right, Rickers," I said.

"Two things here," said Sian. "First of all, Chrissie has a point. Second of all, you're just siding with her because of her outward appearance."

"Oh that is not true," Chris defied, but the fact that he was looking down at the ground and that the colour was rising to his face told us that he was lying.

Sian made a "cuh"ing noise and said, "Oh my God, you are unbelievable!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It _means_ , Rickers, that there is more to a person than their beauty. It's what lies beneath a person that I find attractive, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool. And besides, we women aren't objects, you know, that can be used just for – you know what, never mind that. The point is that we have hearts and souls as well as the next person, and you know, fame and fortune can only get you so far."

"Why, what can't it get you?" Rickers asked, intrigued at what his sister was saying.

"Well, it can't buy you everything."

"Such as?"

Sian sighed and said, " _Such as_ … happiness, for a start." And with that she walked away, leaving Chris, Chrissie and I behind. We walked slowly, and there was some silence before Chrissie said, "She's got a point, you know."

"She always has to be that way, doesn't she?" sighed Chris.

"Look, I know that Sian's annoying with her always telling it pretty much like it is," I said, "but there are times like now when you have to agree with her. Not only because she, like me and Chrissie are women, but because she is right about Gold and is right by the fact that you are blinded by her beauty."

Chris remained silent after I said this, and me and Chrissie left him walking as we ran to catch up with Sian.

"So Sian," asked Chrissie when we caught up with her, "I take it that you have no respect for Gold, then?"

Sian gave a reluctant sigh, smiled slightly and said, "What was your first clue?"

"Oh, it's just how you looked at her when she was talking, and how you reacted to the praise that she gave you."

"Well, you're right, sister. I don't have any respect for her."

"But why, Sian?" I asked her, surprised to hear her admit it. "I don't understand it. I mean, you have respect for every teacher you've seen and you always like to hear the praise a teacher gives you. So, what's up with you not liking praise and not respecting this teacher?"

"I don't like the praise that she gives me and I don't respect her, Kiara, because not only does she not have any self respect, but she is so wrapped up in herself and the _fame_ and the _fortune_ and the fact that it's all about _her_ , I mean, it's just _disgusting_ how she goes about talking about herself the way she does all the time. Plus, I'm pretty sure she's ugly on the inside."

"You're very perceptive, aren't you?" I asked her, as Chrissie shook her head and smiled and looked like she was going to laugh in disbelief at how good Sian was.

"Well, I don't like to toot my own horn, Kiara, but yes, I like to think I am." And the three of us chuckled a little. Then Chrissie went back to a comment that Chris made earlier.

"What she _says_ she's done. Honestly, if she's not gone by the end of the year, I think I'll leave and scream."

"I agree with you, sister," Sian said, as I nodded in agreement with what Chrissie said. "I mean, of all the people Ma could've picked for the job –"

"So, are you going to complain to your mother about her, Sian?" I asked.

"Nah," she said. "I'm gonna keep this to myself." We understood what Sian meant by that, for the three of us agreed that Gold was not only a waste of space, but she was also a terrible teacher, too. Chris caught us up at that moment, so we ended the talk about Gold and went down to dinner.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **Sackbrains and Murmurs**

 **KIARA**

I knew that my grandmothers were mad at me, but I didn't know how mad they were until I got my first letter from them a few days later from Grandmother Sarabi. I gulped when I received it at breakfast, opened it up and read:

 _Kiara,_

 _I can't believe that you would go and do something like this! Me and Sarafina were both shocked when we read about what you had done. I didn't send you a Howler because we both know that that's not my style and I'm not one for shouting, but the point is that this is not like you at all, Kiara. Honestly, you are very lucky that you're not expelled! Even your father would never have done something like this and he was quite a wild child when he was at school, but the point is that he wouldn't go so far as to do what you did with that car! I'm very disappointed in you, Kiara, and I want you to write back as soon as you can and promise me that you will never do something like this again; for I really do not want to see you expelled._

 _Keep me updated with what's going on at the school, Sarafina sends you her love and tell Chris, Sian and Chrissie that I said hello. Oh, and also tell Chrissie that if she comes up with another clever idea like the one she had with the car, I want her to leave you out of it. Don't get me wrong, I like the Dawsons, but I don't want you to get in trouble, OK?_

 _Love you lots,_

 _Grandmother Sarabi_

I read the letter to Chris, Sian and Chrissie. Chrissie was quite upset when she heard about what Grandmother Sarabi said, but she understood. Anyhoo, I wrote back to her that very night, and this was what I wrote:

 _Dear Grandmother Sarabi,_

 _I'm sorry I hurt you that way and I promise you that I will never do anything like that again, for I don't want to get upset either. I've apologised to Sian and she forgives me; well, I think that was mainly down to Chrissie receiving that Howler from her mother because she did forgive me pretty easily, but that's something good anyway, isn't it? I want you to know that I feel pretty bad about what happened and I want us to put this thing behind us._

 _School's great for the most part. Professor Gold is already starting to get on my nerves along with a few others, too. She is very much an egotist, but I'm gonna try to stay out of her way. I know it sounds childish, but I really do not like her and how she behaves in front of people, like she always has a camera and a spotlight on her._

 _If there's anything to tell you about, I'll write again soon. Give my love to Grandmother Sarafina and tell her I'm sorry about the incident with the flying car, won't you? After all, I don't want you both to be angry with me for ever. Gotta sign off now._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Kiara_

To get back on the point of Giselle Gold, though, I spent a lot of time over the next few days after the incident with the pixies dodging out of sight whenever I saw Giselle Gold coming down a corridor. Harder to avoid than her, however, was Colleen McCreevy, who seemed to have memorised my timetable. Nothing seemed to give Colleen a bigger thrill than to say "All right, Kiara?" six or seven times a day and hear, "Hullo, Colleen" back, no matter how exasperated I sounded when I said it.

Harold was still angry with me about the disastrous car journey and Chrissie's wand was still malfunctioning, surpassing itself on Friday morning by shooting out of Chrissie's hand in Charms and hitting tiny old Professor Winds squarely between the eyes, creating a large, throbbing green boil where it had struck. So, with one thing and another, I was quite glad to reach the weekend. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I were planning to visit Mina on that Saturday morning, if I remember rightly (which I hope I do, because this is my life's story). Rather annoyingly though, I recall being woken up rather earlier than I liked by Olivia Cane, Captain of the Lion-Heart Quidditch team.

"Whassamatter?" I said groggily.

"Quidditch practice!" said Cane. "Come on!"

I squinted out the window. There was a thin mist hanging across a pink and gold sky. When I woke up, I seem to remember having a thought that I couldn't understand how I had slept through all the noise the birds were making.

"Olivia," I croaked, "it's the crack of dawn."

"Exactly," said Cane. She was a tall and pretty sixth-year and, at that moment, her eyes were gleaming with a mad enthusiasm. "It's part of our new training programme. Come on, grab your broom and let's go," said Cane heavily. "None of the other teams have started training yet, we're going to be the first off the mark this year …"

Yawning and shivering slightly, I climbed out of bed and began to search for my Quidditch uniform.

"Good girl," said Cane. "Meet you on the pitch in fifteen minutes."

When I'd found my scarlet jumper and pants, scarlet over-robe and brown boots, I scribbled a note to Sian and Chrissie explaining where I'd gone and went down the spiral staircase to the common room, my Scoot-Zoomer Two Thousand on my shoulder. I had just reached the portrait hole when there was a clatter behind me and Colleen McCreevy came dashing down the spiral staircase, her camera swinging madly around her neck and something clutched in her hand.

"I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Kiara! Look what I have here! I've had it developed, I wanted to show you –"

I looked bemusedly at the photograph Colleen was brandishing under my nose.

A moving black and white Gold was tugging hard on an arm I recognised as my own. I was pleased to see my photographic self was putting up a good fight and refusing to be dragged into view. As I watched, Gold gave up and slumped, panting, against the edge of the picture.

"Will you sign it?" said Colleen eagerly.

"No," I said flatly, glancing around to check that the room really was deserted. "Sorry, Colleen, I'm in a hurry – Quidditch practice."

I climbed through the portrait hole.

"Oh wow! Wait for me! I'm a half-blood, and my parents split, so I've never actually watched a Quidditch game before!"

Colleen scrambled through the hole after me.

"It'll be really boring," I said quickly, hoping that Colleen would turn round and leave me in peace, but to my annoyance, she ignored me, her face was shining with excitement.

"You were the youngest player in about twenty years, weren't you, Kiara? Weren't you?" said Colleen, trotting alongside me. "You must be brilliant? I've never flown? Is it easy? Is that your own broom? That's one of the best one's there is, isn't it?"

I didn't know how to get rid of her without sounding rude. It was like having an extremely talkative shadow.

"I don't really understand Quidditch," said Colleen breathlessly. "Is it true there are four balls? And two of them fly around trying to knock people off their brooms?"

"Yes," I said heavily, resigned to explaining the complicated rules of Quidditch. "They're called Bludgers. There are two Beaters on each team, who carry clubs to beat the Bludgers away from their side. Tanya and Geri Fang are the Lion-Heart Beaters."

"And what are the other balls for?" Colleen asked, tripping over a couple of steps because she was gazing open-mouthed at me.

"Well, the Quaffle – that's the big red one – is the one that scores goals. Three Chasers on each team throw the Quaffle to each other and try to get it through the goalposts at the end of the pitch – they're the three long poles with hoops at the end."

"And the fourth ball –"

"– is the Golden Snitch," I said, "and it's very small, very fast and difficult to catch. But that's what the Seeker's got to do, because a game of Quidditch doesn't end until the Snitch had been caught. And whichever team's Seeker gets the Snitch earns their team an extra hundred and fifty points."

"And you're Lion-Heart Seeker, aren't you?" said Colleen in awe.

"Yes," I said, as we left the castle and started across the dew-drenched grass. "And there's the goalkeeper, too. She guards the goalposts. That's it, really."

But Colleen didn't stop questioning me all the way down to the Quidditch pitch, and I only shook her off when I reached the changing rooms. Colleen called after me in a piping voice, "I'll go and get a good seat, Kiara!" and hurried off to the stands.

The rest of the team were already in the changing room. Cane was the only person who was truly awake. Tanya and Geri Fang were sitting puffy-eyed and tussle-haired, next to fourth-year Aaron Spinnet, who seemed to be nodding off against the wall behind his fellow Chasers, Keith Ball and Andrew Johnstone, were yawning, side by side, opposite them.

"There you are, Kiara, what kept you?" said Cane briskly. "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the pitch, because I spent the summer devising a new training programme, which I really think will make all the difference."

Cane was holding up a large diagram of a Quidditch pitch, on which were many lines, arrows and crosses in different coloured inks. She took out her wand and tapped the board and the arrows began to wiggle over the board like caterpillars. As Cane launched into a speech about her new tactics, Tanya Fang's head drooped right into Aaron Spinnet's shoulder and she began to snore.

The first board took nearly twenty minutes to explain, but there was another board under that, and a third under that one. I sank into a stupor as Cane droned on and on.

I don't really remember what Cane said for I was too tired to listen, but I remember Cane jerking me out of my fantasy of what I could have been having for breakfast at that moment in the castle, "So, is that clear? Any questions?"

"I've got a question," Olivia," said Tanya, who had woken with a start. "Why couldn't have you told us all this yesterday when we were _awake_?"

Cane wasn't pleased.

"Now, listen here, you lot," she said, glowering at us all, "we should have won the Quidditch Cup last year. We were easily the best team. But unfortunately, owing to circumstances beyond our control …"

I shifted guiltily in my seat. For those of you who had forgotten of what had taken place towards the end of my first year at Dragon Mort, then allow me to remind you. You see, I had been unconscious in the hospital wing for the final match of the previous year because of my meeting with Lady Zira, meaning that Lion-Heart had been a player short and had suffered their worst defeat in three hundred years.

Cane took a moment to regain control of herself. Our last defeat was clearly still torturing her.

"So this year we train harder than ever before … OK, let's go and put our new theories into practice!" Cane shouted, seizing her broomstick and leading the way out of the changing rooms. Stiff-legged and still yawning, me and the rest of the team followed her.

We had been in the changing room so long that the sun was properly up now, although remnants of mist hung over the grass in the stadium. As I walked onto the pitch, I saw Chris, Sian and Chrissie sitting in the stands.

"Are you done yet?" Chrissie called incredulously.

"Haven't even started," I said, looking jealously at the toast and marmalade Chris, Sian and Chrissie had brought out of the Great Hall. "Cane's been teaching us new moves."

I mounted my broomstick and kicked at the ground, soaring up into the air. I remember how the cool morning air whipped my face, refreshing me and my brain, and having a far greater effect of waking me up than Cane's long talk. It felt wonderful to be back on the Quidditch pitch. I soared right around the stadium at full speed, racing Tanya and Geri.

"What's that funny clicking noise?" called Tanya, as we hurtled round a corner.

I looked into the stands. Colleen was sitting in one of the highest seats, her camera raised, taking picture after picture, the sound strangely magnified in the deserted stadium.

"Look this way, Kiara! This way!" she cried shrilly.

"Who's that?" said Tanya.

"No idea," I lied, putting on a spurt of speed that took me as far away as possible from Colleen.

"What's going on?" said Cane, frowning as she skimmed through the air towards us. "Why's that first-year taking pictures? I don't like it. She could be a Snake-Eyes spy, trying to find out about our new training programme."

"She's in Lion-Heart," I said.

"And the Snake-Eye's don't need a spy, Olivia," said Geri.

"What makes you say that?" said Cane testily.

"Because they're here in person," said Geri, pointing.

Several people in green Quidditch uniforms were walking onto the pitch, broomsticks in their arms.

"I don't believe it!" Cane hissed in outrage. "I booked the pitch for today! We'll see about this!"

Cane shot towards the ground, landing rather harder than she meant to in her anger, staggering slightly as she dismounted. Me, Tanya and Geri followed.

"Spark!" Cane bellowed at the Snake-Eyes captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Maria Spark was larger than Cane. She had a look of Trollish cunning on her face as she replied, "Plenty of room for us all, Cane."

Andrew, Aaron and Keith had come over, too. There were no boys on the Snake-Eyes team – who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing us Lion-Hearts, leering to a woman.

"But I booked the pitch!" said Cane, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Spark, "but I've got a specially signed note from Professor Triphorm. _"I, Professor T. Triphorm, give the Snake-Eyes team permission to practice today on the Quidditch pitch, owing the need to train their new Seeker."_ "

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Cane, distracted. "Where?"

And from the six large figures before us came a seventh, smaller girl, smirking all over her pale, pointed face. It was Dani Malty.

"Aren't you Narissa Malty's daughter?" said Tanya, looking at Malty with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Dani's mother," said Spark, as the whole Snake-Eyes team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift she gave to the Snake-Eyes team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of gold lettering spelling the words "Scoot-Zoomer Two Thousand and One" gleamed under the Lion-Hearts' noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model," said Spark carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of her own broom. "Only came out last month. I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps," she smiled nastily at Tanya and Geri, who were both holding Cleansweep Fives, "sweeps the board with them."

No one in my team, including myself, could think of anything to say for a moment. Malty was smiling so broadly her cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Oh look," said Spark. "A pitch invasion."

Chris, Sian and Chrissie were crossing the grass to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" Chrissie asked me. "Why aren't you playing? And what's _she_ doing here?"

She was looking at Malty, taking in her Snake-Eyes Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Snake-Eyes Seeker, Dawson," said Malty smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the new brooms my mother's bought our team."

Chris and Chrissie gazed open-mouthed at the seven superb broomsticks in front of us.

"Good, aren't they?" said Malty smoothly. "But perhaps the Lion-Heart team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Snake-Eyes team howled with laughter.

"Oh, yeah?" Sian but in suddenly. "Well, you know what, Malty? I hate lying cheating scumbags such as yourself, who think that because they are wealthy they can get whatever they want without having to work hard to get places. It's hard work and talent that gets people anywhere, which just goes to show that Lion-Heart is the better team out of the two, for they didn't have to buy _their_ way in; for they got in on pure talent, and pure talent _alone_."

Myself, Chris, Chrissie and the Lion-Heart team shouted in support of Sian's argument, and we were even more thrilled by her wiping the rather annoying smug look off of Malty's face.

"No one asked _your_ opinion, you filthy little Sackbrain," she spat.

I knew at once that Malty had said something really bad because there was an instant uproar at her words. Spark had to dive in front of Malty to stop Tanya and Geri jumping on her, Aaron screamed, "How dare _you_!" and Chrissie plunged her hand into her over robe, pulled out her wand and yelled, "You'll pay for that one Malty!" and pointed it furiously under Spark's arm at Malty's face.

A loud bang echoed round the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the end of Chrissie's wand, hitting her in the stomach and sending her reeling backwards onto the grass.

"Chrissie! Chrissie! Are you all right?" squealed Sian.

Chrissie opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead she gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of her mouth onto her lap.

The Snake-Eyes team were paralysed with laughter. Spark was doubled up, hanging onto her new broomstick for support. Malty was on all fours, banging the ground with her fist. Me and the rest of the Lion-Heart team along with Chris and Sian were gathered around Chrissie, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. None of us seemed to want to touch her.

"We'd better get her up to Mina's, it's nearest," I said to Sian and Chris, who both nodded bravely, and they both pulled Chrissie up by the arms.

"What happened, Kiara? What happened? Is she ill? But you can cure her, can't you?" Colleen had run down from her seat and was now dancing alongside us as we left the pitch. Chrissie gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down her front.

"Ooooh," said Colleen, fascinated and raising her camera. "Can you hold her still, Kiara?"

"Get out of the way, Colleen!" I said angrily. Sian and Chris supported Chrissie out of the stadium and across the grounds towards the edge of the Forest, following me.

"Nearly there, Chrissie," said Sian, as the gamekeeper's cabin came into view. "You'll be all right in a minute … almost there …"

We were within twenty feet of Mina's house when the front door opened, but it wasn't Mina who emerged. Giselle Gold, wearing robes of palest mauve that day, came striding out.

"Quick, behind here," I hissed, beckoning the other three into a nearby bush. Sian and Chris (still holding Chrissie) followed, Chris somewhat reluctantly.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" Gold was saying loudly to Mina. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book – I'm surprised you haven't already got one. I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, goodbye!" And she strode away towards the castle.

I waited until Gold was out of sight, then me, Chris and Sian – still carrying Chrissie – got out of the bush and up to Mina's front door. We knocked urgently.

Mina appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but her expression brightened when she saw who it was.

"Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me – come in, come in – thought you mighta bin Professor Gold back again."

I went in first and stood out of the way, as Chris and Sian supported Chrissie over the threshold, into the one roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner and a fire crackling merrily in another. Mina didn't seem to be perturbed by Chrissie's slug problem, which I explained hastily as Chris and Sian lowered Chrissie into a chair.

"Better out than in," she said cheerfully, planting a large copper basin in front of her. "Cough 'em all up, Chrissie."

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," said Sian anxiously, watching Chrissie over the basin. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand …"

Mina was bustling round, making us tea. Her boarhound, Gnasher, was slobbering over me.

"What did Gold want with you, Mina?" I asked, scratching Gnasher's ears.

"Givin' me advice on getting' kelpies out of a well," growled Mina, moving a half-plucked rooster off her scrubbed table and setting down the teapot. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some Banshee she banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle." Turns out that Mina was right to be sceptical, but more on that later.

It was most unlike Mina to criticise a Dragon Mort teacher and I looked at her in surprise, along with Sian and Chrissie. Chris, however, said in a voice a bit higher than usual, "I think you're being a bit unfair. I've heard Sian say that Ma obviously thought she was the best woman for the job –"

"She was the _on'y_ woman for the job," said Mina, offering us a plate of treacle toffee, whilst Chrissie coughed squelchily into her basin I hadn't had a bite to eat all morning, so I gladly took a piece. "An' I do mean the _on'y_ one. Getting' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen to take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted fer a long while now. So tell me," said Mina, jerking her head at Chrissie, "who was she tryin' ter curse?"

"Malty called Sian something. It must have been really bad, because everyone went mad."

Sian got up and walked a few paces away from us. Then she stopped and said with her back to us, "She called me a Sackbrain."

"She did not!" Mina growled at Sian. She looked outraged.

"What's a Sackbrain?" I asked.

Sian spun around and said, "It means know-it-all. Someone whose the smartest and brainiest person in a large group, and it doesn't matter if you're born from an intelligent person or not, some of our kind call us that. Someone like me. Like the other bad term that's not to be said in our world, it's not a term one usually hears in a civilized conversation."

"You see Kiara, there are some wizards and witches, like the Malty family, who believe that having wealth, not working very hard and not using your brain and your intuition and your wits will get you places, never mind the fact that they take their blood status into account, for there are three types: pure-bloods, where both are wizard kind, half-bloods, like yourself, where one parent is wizard kind and the other is Muggle, and then there are the Muggle borns, where a child with magical talents is born from non-magic folk." There is also another type, but we'll get to that later.

"So they believe that having wealth and not thinking about brains is enough to live on along with your blood status?" I asked incredulously.

"That's righ'."

"That's horrible," I said.

"Mental," said Chris.

"Disgusting," said Chrissie.

"And it's codswallop. Stupid brains, it's ridiculous. Besides, they haven't invented a spell our Sian or her mother can't do," finished Mina proudly, making Sian go a brilliant shade of magenta.

"Come here you," Mina said to Sian, who walked up to Mina and placed her freakishly small hands in Mina's gigantic ones. "Now, you tell me what yer mother would say ter yeh now if she could see yer."

Sian took a deep breath and said, "She'd tell me to be proud of who I am and to not let people like Malty try and knock me down, for we are who we are, and we are all unique and special in our own different ways. After all, if we were all the same, the world would be a very dull and boring place to live in. There's no one else like me on this earth, and I am proud of that, and as the old Muggle saying goes, _"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."_ Therefore, I should trust in myself and who I am, for people will judge and criticise me as we all judge and criticise others for their unique little ways and quirks, but I know that we are all different and that individuality is important, and that we should not lose who we are."

Chris, Chrissie and I were all shocked by this, for none of us had ever heard Sian say something that beautiful before, even Chris and Chrissie and they knew her longer than I had, for they were part of her family and knew her better; and more impressively, at this point in our story, she was _twelve_ , so take from that what you will. Anyhoo, we all looked at each other speechless before Chrissie coughed up a few more slugs. Mina, however, just nodded and smiled at Sian, who smiled back at her. "An' don't yeh forget abou' that."

After a few moments looking at Sian, Mina let go of her hands, turned to Chrissie and said, "Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse her, Chrissie," said Mina loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Narissa Malty would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed her daughter. Least yer not in trouble."

I would have pointed out at that point that trouble didn't come much worse than having slugs pouring out of your mouth, but I couldn't; Mina's treacle toffee had cemented my teeth together.

"Kiara," said Mina suddenly, as though struck by a sudden thought, "gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

Furious at this remark, I wrenched my teeth apart.

"I have _not_ been giving out signed photos," I said hotly. "If Gold's still putting that about –"

"I'm on'y jokin'," she said, patting me gently on the back and sending me, face first, into the table. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Gold yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than she is without tryin'?"

"Bet she didn't like that," I said, sitting up and rubbing my chin.

"Don' think she did," said Mina, her eyes twinkling. "An' then I told her I'd never read one of her books an' she decided ter go. Treacle toffee, Chrissie?" she added as Chrissie reappeared.

"No thanks," said Chrissie weakly. "Better not risk it."

"Come an' see what I've bin growin'," said Mina, as me, Chris and Sian finished our tea.

In the small vegetable patch behind Mina's house were a dozen of the largest pumpkins I had ever seen. Each was the size of a large boulder.

"Gettin' on well, aren't they?" said Mina happily. "For the Hallowe'en feast … should be big enough by then."

"What've you been feeding them?" I said.

Mina looked over her shoulder to check that we were alone.

"Well, I've bin givin' them – you know – a bit o' help."

I noticed Mina's flowery pink umbrella leaning against the back wall of the cabin. I had had no reason to believe before now that this umbrella was not all it appeared to be by plain sight; in fact, I had the strong impression that Mina's old wand was concealed inside it. Mina wasn't supposed to use magic. She had been expelled from Dragon Mort in her third year, but I had never found out why. Any mention of the matter and Mina would clear her throat loudly and become mysteriously deaf until the subject was changed.

"An Engorgement Charm, I suppose," said Sian, halfway between disapproval and amusement. "Well, you've done a good job on them."

"That's what yer little sister said," said Mina, nodding at Chris, Sian and Chrissie in turn. "Met her yesterday." Mina looked sideways at me, her mouth twitching. "Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house." She winked at me. "If yeh ask me, _she_ wouldn' say no to a signed –"

"Oh, shut up," I said. Chrissie snorted with laughter and the ground was sprayed with slugs.

"Watch it!" Mina roared, pulling Chrissie away from her precious pumpkins.

It was nearly lunchtime and I had only had one bit of treacle toffee since dawn, I was keen to go back to school to eat. We said goodbye to Mina and walked back up to the castle, Chrissie hiccoughing occasionally, but only bringing up two, very small slugs.

We had barely set foot in the cool Entrance Hall when a voice rang out. "There you are, Pride-Lander, Dawson." Professor Darbus was walking towards us, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

"What are we doing, Professor?" said Chrissie, nervously suppressing a burp.

" _You_ will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr Match," said Professor Darbus. "And no magic, Dawson – elbow grease."

Chrissie gulped. Douglas Match, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the school.

"And you, Pride-Lander, will be helping Professor Gold answer her fan mail," said Professor Darbus.

"Oh no – can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" I said desperately.

"Certainly not," said Professor Darbus, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Gold requested you particularly. Eight o'clock is the time arranged for both your detentions."

Chrissie and I slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom, Sian and Chris behind us; Sian wearing a _well-you-did-break-the-rules_ fort of expression, and Chris hurrying to try and cheer us up. I didn't fancy my lunch as much as I thought I did. Both me and Chrissie thought we'd got the worst deal.

"Match'll have me there all night," said Chrissie heavily. "No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

"You know, Chrissie," said Sian, "if you want, you could do some of it at home over the summer and help me out a bit –"

"Oh, shut up, Sian!" Chrissie snapped. Sian was taken aback by this, but she did shut up and went back to eating.

"I'd swap any time," I said hollowly. "I've had loads of practice with my aunt. Answering Gold's fan mail … she'll be a nightmare …"

"Oh, come on you two, cheer up," said Chris, as he and Sian sat down next to us. "At least you've only got a night's detention instead of a week's worth. I mean, that's good … isn't it?"

"Yeah." And gloomily, Chrissie and I started to eat.

Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time at all, it was five minutes to eight, and I was dragging my feet along the second-floor corridor to Gold's office. I gritted my teeth and knocked.

The door flew open at once. Gold beamed down on me.

"And here's the scallywag!" she said. "Come in, Kiara, come in."

Shining brightly on the walls by the light of many candles were countless photographs of Gold. She had even signed a few of them. Another large pile lay on her desk.

"You can address the envelopes!" Gold told me, as though this was a huge treat. "The first one's to Gary Gudgeon, bless him – huge fan of mine."

The minutes sailed by. I let Gold's voice wash over me, occasionally saying "Mmm" and "Right" and "Yeah". Now and then I caught a phrase like "Fame's a fickle friend, Kiara" or "Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that."

The candles burned lower and lower, making the light dance over the many faces of Gold watching her. I moved my aching hand over what felt like the thousandth envelope, writing out Vernon Smethley's address. It must be nearly time to leave, I thought miserably, please let it be nearly time.

Ok, so do you remember at the very beginning of the book when I told you my fellow readers that a dark shadow was moving across the school? Well, that's going to start coming into play now; for as I was thinking what's written above, I heard something – something quite apart from the spitting of the dying candles and Gold's prattle about her fans.

It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone-marrow, a voice of breath-taking, ice-cold venom.

" _Come … come to me … let me rip you … let me tell you … let me kill you …"_

I gave a huge jump and a large lilac blot appeared on Vernon Smethley's street.

" _What?"_ I said loudly.

"I know!" said Gold. "Six solid months at the top of the best-seller list! Broke all records!"

"No," I said frantically. "That voice!"

"Sorry?" said Gold, looking puzzled. "What voice?"

"That – that voice that said – didn't you hear it?"

Gold was looking at me in high astonishment.

"What are you talking about, Kiara? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy? Great Scott – look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! I'd never have believed it – the time's flown, hasn't it?"

I didn't answer. I was straining my ears to hear the voice again, but there was no sound except for Gold to tell me that I mustn't expect a treat like this every time I got a detention. Feeling dazed, I left.

I remember that as I walked back to Lion-Heart Tower, I felt a little scared about the mysteriously chilling voice that I had heard. I remember worrying about it, for a voice that cold could not mean anything good at all. I was wondering about what it could belong to or what the thing could be exactly, but whatever the creature was, it had to be dangerous, I knew that much, but apart from that, I couldn't make anything out. I didn't know how dangerous this creature was, nor the damage it would do around the school, or the horror that it would begin to unleash, never mind the really large mystery or all the messes that would come with it, but more on that later.

It was so late that the Lion-Heart common room was almost empty. I went straight up to the dormitory. Chrissie wasn't back yet. I pulled on my pyjamas, got into bed and waited. Half an hour later, Chrissie arrived, nursing her and bringing a strong smell of polish into the darkened room.

"My muscles are all seized up," she groaned, falling on her bed. "Fourteen times he made me buff up that Quidditch Cup before he was satisfied. And then I had another slug attack all over a Special Award for Services to the School. Took ages to shift the slime … How was it with Gold?"

Keeping my voice low so as not to wake Sian, Beth and Kestrel, I told Chrissie exactly what I had heard.

"And Gold said she couldn't hear it?" said Chrissie. I could see her frowning in the moonlight. "D'you think she was lying? But I don't get it – even someone invisible would've had to open the door."

"I know," I said, lying back on my four-poster and staring at the canopy above me. "I don't get it, either."

0000

 **I'm sorry about the term "Sackbrain", but I really didn't know what to put there. Besides, for this book it's mainly used as a plot devise, and in the next few books its used as an insult, so get used to it. Sorry if it sucks, but that's how it is. Anyhoo, back to the story.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 **The Deathday Party**

 **KIARA**

And so October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Matron was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Her Pepperup Potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterwards. Kestrel Dawson, who had been looking peaky, was bullied into taking some by Sian. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her hair was getting steamed in a sauna.

Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the river rose, the flowerbeds turned into muddy streams and Mina's pumpkins swelled into the size of garden sheds. Olivia Cane's enthusiasm for regular training sessions however, was not dampened, which was why I was to be found late one stormy afternoon a few days before Hallowe'en, returning to Lion-Heart Tower, drenched to the skin and splattered in mud.

Even aside from the rain and wind I remember that it hadn't been a happy practice session. Tanya and Geri, who had been spying on the Snake-Eyes team, had seen for themselves the speed of those new Scoot-Zoomer Two Thousand and Ones. They reported that the Snake-Eyes team were no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like jump-jets.

As I squelched along the deserted corridor I came across somebody who looked just as preoccupied as I was. Nearly Headless Nicola, the ghost of Lion-Heart Tower, was staring morosely out of a window, muttering under her breath, "… don't fulfil their requirements … half an inch, if that …"

"Hello, Nicola," I said.

"Hello, hello," said Nearly Headless Nicola, starting and looking round. She wore a dashing, plumed hat over her long curly hair, and a dress with a long neck, which covered up the fact that her neck was almost completely severed. She was pale as smoke, and I could see right through her to the dark side and the torrential rain outside.

"You look troubled, young Pride-Lander," said Nicola, folding a transparent letter and tucking it inside a pocket of her dress.

"So do you," I said.

"Ah," Nearly Headless Nicola waved an elegant hand, "a matter of no importance … it's not as though I really wanted to join … thought I'd apply, but apparently I _"don't fulfil requirements"_."

In spite of her airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on her face.

"But you would think, wouldn't you," she erupted suddenly, pulling the letter out of her cloak pocket, "that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Games?"

"Oh – yes," I said, clearly supposed to agree.

"I mean, nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come properly off, I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However …" Nearly Headless Nicola shook her letter open and read furiously:

" _We can only accept Gamesmen and women whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in Games' activities such as Headless Head Lacrosse and Head Polo. It is with deep regret, therefore that I must inform you that you do not fulfil our requirements. With very best wishes, Madam Patricia Delilah-Podmore."_

Fuming, Nearly Headless Nicola stuffed the letter away.

"Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on, Kiara! Most people would think that's good and beheaded, but oh no, it's not good enough for Madam Properly Decapitated-Podmore.

Nearly Madam Nicola took several deep breaths and then said, in a far calmer tone, "So – what's bothering you? Anything I can help you with?"

"No," I said. "Not unless you know where we can get seven free Scoot-Zoomer Two Thousand and Ones for the match against Sna –"

The rest of my sentence was drowned by a high-pitched mewing near my ankles. I looked down and found myself gazing into a pair of lamp-like yellow eyes. It was Mrs Robbs, the skeletal grey cat who was used by the caretaker, Douglas Match, as a deputy in his endless battle against students.

"You'd better get out of here, Kiara," said Nicola quickly. "Match isn't in a good mood. He's got flu and some third-years accidentally plastered sloth brains all over the ceiling in dungeon five; he's been cleaning all morning, and if he sees you dripping mud all over the place …"

"Right," I said, backing away from the accusing stare of Mrs Robbs, but not quickly enough. Drawn to the spot by the mysterious power that seemed to connect me with this foul cat. , Douglas Match suddenly burst through a tapestry to my right, wheezing and looking wildly about for the rule-breaker. There was a thick tartan scarf bound around his head, and his nose was unusually purple.

"Filth!" he shouted, his jowls aquiver, his eyes popping alarmingly as he pointed at the muddy puddle that dripped from my Quidditch robes. "Mess and muck everywhere! I've had enough of it, I tell you! Follow me, Pride-Lander!"

And with that I waved a gloomy goodbye to Nearly Headless Nicola, and followed Match downstairs, doubling the number of muddy footprints on the floor.

I had never been inside Match's office before; it was a place that all students avoided. The room was dingy and windowless, lit by a single oil lamp dangling from the low ceiling. A faint smell of rotting fish lingered about the place. Wooden filing cabinets stood around the walls; from their labels, I could see that they contained details of every pupil Match had ever punished. Tanya and Geri Fang had an entire draw to themselves. A highly polished collection of chains and manacles hung on the wall behind Match's desk. After all, it was common knowledge that he was always begging Crighton to let him suspend students by their ankles from the ceiling.

Match grabbed a quill from a pot on his desk and began shuffling around looking for parchment.

"Dung," he muttered furiously, "great sizzling dragon bogies … frog brains … rat intestines … I've had enough of it … make an _example_ … where's the form … yes …"

He retrieved a large roll of parchment from his desk drawer and stretched it out in front of him, dipping his long black quill into the ink pot.

" _Name_ … Kiara Pride-Lander … _Crime_ …"

"It was only a bit of mud!" I said.

"It's only a bit of mud to you, girl, but to me it's an extra hour of scrubbing!" shouted Match, a drip shivering unpleasantly at the end of his bulbous nose. " _Crime_ … befouling the castle … _suggested sentence_ …"

But as Match lowered his quill, there was a great BANG! on the ceiling of the office, which made the oil lamp rattle.

"WEEVES!" Match roared, flinging down his quill in a transport of rage. "I'll have you this time! _I'll have you!_ "

And without a backwards glance at me, Match ran flat-footed from the office, Mrs Robbs streaking alongside him.

Weeves, the school poltergeist, a grinning, air home menace who lived to cause havoc and distress. I didn't much like Weeves, but I couldn't help feeling grateful for her timing. Hopefully, whatever Weeves had done (and it sounded as though she'd wrecked something very big this time) would distract Match from me.

I thought it would be best to wait for Match to come back, so I sunk into a moth-eaten chair next to the desk. There was only one thing on it apart from my half completed form: a large, glossy, purple envelope with silver lettering on the front. With a quick glance at the door to check that Match wasn't on his way back, I picked up the envelope and read:

 _KWIKSPELL_

 _A Correspondence Course in_

 _Beginner's Magic_

Intrigued, I flicked the envelope open and pulled out the sheaf of parchment inside. More curly silver writing on the front page said:

 _Feel out of step in the world of modern magic? Find yourself making excuses not to perform simple spells? Ever been taunted for your flimsy wandwork?_

There is an answer!

 _Kwikspell is an all-new, fail-safe, quick-result, easy-learn course. Hundreds of witches and wizards have benefited from the Kwikspell method!_

 _Madam Z. Nettles of Topsham writes:_

" _I had no memory for incantations and my potions were a family joke! Now, after a Kwikspell course, I am the centre of attention at parties and friends beg for the recipe of my Sanctillation Solution!"_

 _Warlock D. J. Prod of Dilsbury says:_

" _My wife used to laugh at my feeble charms but one month into your fabulous Kwikspell course I succeeded in turning her into a sheep! Thank you, Kwikspell!"_

Fascinated, I thumbed through the rest of the envelope's contents. Why on earth did Match want a Kwikspell course? Did this mean he wasn't a proper wizard? I was just reading "Lesson One! Holding Your Wand (Some Useful Tips)" when shuffling footsteps outside told me that Match was coming back. Stuffing the parchment back into the envelope, I threw it back onto the desk just as the door opened.

Match was looking triumphant.

"That vanishing cabinet was extremely valuable!" he was saying gleefully to Mrs Robbs. "We'll have Weeves out this time, my sweet."

His eyes fell on me and then darted to the Kwikspell envelope which, I realised too late, was lying two feet away from where it had started.

Match's pasty face went brick red. I braced myself for a tidal wave of fury. Match hobbled across to his desk, snatched up the envelope and threw it into a drawer.

"Have you – did you read –?" he spluttered.

"No," I lied quickly.

Match's knobbly hands were twisting together.

"If I thought you were reading my private … not that it's mine … for a friend … be that as it may … however …"

I was staring at him, alarmed; Match had never looked madder. His eyes were popping, a tic was going in one of his cheeks and the tartan scarf didn't help.

"Very well … go … and don't breathe a word … not that … however, if you didn't read … go now, I have to write up Weeves' report … go …"

Amazed at my luck, I sped out of the office, up the corridor and back upstairs. To escape from Match's office without punishment was probably some kind of school record.

"Kiara! Kiara! Did it work?"

Nearly Headless Nicola came gliding out of a classroom. Behind her, I could see the wreckage of a large black and gold cabinet which appeared to have been dropped from a great height.

"I persuaded Weeves to crash it right over Match's office," said Nicola eagerly. "Thought it might distract him –"

"Was that you?" I said gratefully. "Yeah, it worked, I didn't even get detention. Thanks, Nicola!"

We set off up the corridor together. Nearly Headless Nicola, I noticed, was still holding Madam Patricia's rejection letter.

"I wish there was something I could do for you about the Headless Games," I said.

Nearly Headless Nicola stopped in her tracks and I walked right through her. I wished I hadn't; it was like stepping through an icy shower.

"But there _is_ something you could do for me," said Nicola excitedly. "Kiara – would I be asking too much – but no, you wouldn't want –"

"What is it?" I said.

"Well, this Hallowe'en I will be celebrating my fifth hundredth deathday," said Nearly Headless Nicola, drawing herself up and looking dignified.

"Oh," I said, not sure whether to look happy or sad at this. "Right."

"I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such an honour if you would attend. The two eldest Dawson girls and Mr Rickers would be most welcome, of course – but I dare say you'd rather go to the school feast?" She watched me with tenterhooks.

"No," I said quickly, "I'll come –"

"My dear girl! Kiara Pride-Lander at my Deathday party! And," she hesitated, looking excited "do you think you could _possibly_ mention to Madam Patricia how _very_ frightening and impressive you find me?"

"Of – of course," I said.

Nearly Headless Nicola beamed at me.

0000

"A Deathday party!" said Sian keenly, when I had changed and joined her, Chris and Chrissie in the common room. "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those – it'll be fascinating!"

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" said Chrissie, who was halfway through her pile of homework and was grumpy, along with Chris. "Sounds dead depressing to me."

"Oh, open your mind a bit here, Chrissie," said Chris, looking up from whatever piece of homework he was doing. "Besides, it'll be interesting to see, and Sian's right; no person living has ever been to a Deathday party before." (At this point, we didn't know that Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger – as she was called then – attended one.)

Rain was still lashing the windows, which were inky black now, but inside, all was bright and cheerful. The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs where people sat reading, talking, doing their homework, or in the case of Tanya and Geri Fang, trying to find out what happened if you fed a Filibuster Firework to a salamander. Geri had "rescued" the brilliant orange, fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smoking gently on a table surrounded by a knot of curious people.

I was on the point of telling Chris, Sian and Chrissie about Match and the Kwikspell course when the salamander suddenly whizzed into the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled round the room. The sight of Perdy yelling herself hoarse at Tanya and Geri, the spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the salamander's mouth, and it's escape into the fire, with accompanying explosions, drove both Match and the Kwikspell letter out of my mind until Hallowe'en night, but more on that later.

0000

By the time Hallowe'en arrived, I was regretting my rash promise to go to the Deathday party. The rest of the school were happily anticipating their Hallowe'en feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Mina's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in and there were rumours that Crighton had booked a troupe of singing skeletons for the entertainment.

"A promise is a promise," Sian reminded me bossily. "You _said_ you'd go to the Deathday party."

So at seven o'clock, me, Chris, Sian and Chrissie walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with silver plates and candles, and directed our steps instead towards the dungeons.

The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nicola's party had been lined with candles too, though the effect was far from cheerful; they were long, thin, jet-black tapers, all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over our living faces; the temperature dropped with every step we took. As I shivered and drew my over robe tightly around me, I heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard.

"Is that supposed to be _music_?" Chrissie whispered. We turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Nicola standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," she said mournfully, "welcome, welcome … so glad you could come …"

She swept off her witches hat and curtseyed us inside.

I can recall that it was truly a rather spectacular sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, transparent people, who were drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quivering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight blue with a thousand more black candles. Our breath rose into mist before us; it was like we had just stepped into a freezer.

"Shall we have a look around?" I suggested, for I really needed to warm my feet up.

"Let's be careful not to walk through anyone," Chris said nervously, and we set off around the edge of the dance floor. We passed a group of gloomy monks, a ragged man wearing chains, and the ghost of the Fat Nun, the cheerful ghost of Badger-Stripes, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. I wasn't surprised to see the Bloody Baroness, a gaunt, staring Snake-Eyes ghost, who was covered in silver bloodstains, was being given a wide berth by the other ghosts.

"Oh no," said Chris, stopping abruptly. "Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Old Moany."

"Who?" I said, as we backtracked quickly.

"He haunts the boys' toilets on the first-floor," said Chris.

"He haunts a _toilet_?"

"Yes. It's been out of order all year because he keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to go to the loo with him wailing at you –"

"Look, food!" said Chrissie.

On the other side of the dungeon was a long table, also covered in black velvet. We approached it eagerly, but next moment we stopped in our tracks, horrified. My fellow readers, be glad you never smelt what we did, for it was quite disgusting. Large, rotten fish were laid on handsome silver platters; cakes, burned charcoal black, were heaped on salvers; there was a great maggoty haggis, a slab of cheese covered in furry green mould and, in pride of place, an enormous grey cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing formed the words;

 _Madam Nicola de Mimsy-Poropington_

 _Died 31_ _st_ _October, 1505_

I watched, amazed, as a portly ghost approached the table, arched low and walked through it, his mouth held wide so that it passed through one of the salmon.

"Can you taste it if you walk through it?" I asked him.

"Almost," said the ghost sadly, and he turned away.

"I expect they let it rot to give it a stronger flavour," said Sian knowledgably, pinching her nose and leaning closer to look at the putrid haggis.

"Can we move? I feel sick," said Chrissie.

"Believe me, Chrissie, you're not the only one," said Chris, who was looking pale.

We had barely turned around, however, when a little woman swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in mid-air before us.

"Hello, Weeves," I said cautiously.

Unlike the ghosts around us, Weeves the poltergeist was the reverse of pale and transparent. She was wearing a bright orange party hat and a broad grin on her wide, wicked face.

"Nibbles?" she said sweetly, offering us a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus.

"No, thanks," said Sian.

"Heard you talk about poor Moany, Rickers," said Weeves, her eyes dancing. " _Rude_ you was about poor Moany." She took a deep breath and bellowed, "OY! MOANY!"

"Oh, no, Weeves, please don't tell him what I said, he'll be really upset," Chris whispered frantically. "I didn't mean it, I don't mind him – er, hello, Moany."

The squat ghost of a boy had glided over. He had the gloomiest face I had ever seen, half hidden by thick, pearly spectacles.

"What?" he said sulkily.

"How are you, Moany?" said Chris, in a falsely bright voice. "It's nice to see you out of the toilet."

Moany sniffed.

"Mr Rickers was just talking about you –" said Weeves slyly in Moany's ear.

"Just saying – saying – how nice you look tonight," said Chris, glaring at Weeves.

Moany eyed Chris suspiciously.

"You're making fun of me," he said, his eyes flashing silver as his cheeks turned grey.

"No – honestly – didn't I just say how nice Moany's looking?" said Chris, pushing Sian, Chrissie and I.

"Oh, yeah …"

"He did …"

"He meant it …"

"Don't lie to me," Moany grumbled, as the tears started to merge in his eyes, whilst Weeves chuckled happily over his shoulder. "D'you think I don't know what people call me behind my back? Fat Moany! Ugly Moany! Miserable, moping, Moany!"

"You missed out "spotty"," Weeves hissed in his ear.

Old Moany burst into anguished sobs and fled from the dungeon, with Weeves on his tail, flinging peanuts at him and yelling, _"Spotty! Spotty!"_

Chris heaved a deep sigh and shook his head.

Nearly Headless Nicola then drifted towards us through the crowd.

"Enjoying yourselves?"

"Oh, yes," we lied.

"Not a bad turnout," said Nearly Headless Nicola proudly. "The Wailing Widower came all the way up from Swansea … It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra –"

The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as trumpets sounded, as if in announcement of some games beginning.

"Oh, here we go," said Nearly Headless Nicola bitterly.

Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman or horsewoman. The assembly clapped wildly; I started to clap too, but stopped quickly at the sight of Nicola's face.

The horse galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging; a large ghost at the front, whose head was under her arm, who was blowing one of the trumpets, leapt down, lifted her head high in the air so she could see over the crowd (everyone laughed) and strode over to Nearly Headless Nicola, squashing her head back onto her head.

"Nicola!" she roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

She gave a hearty guffaw and hugged Nearly Headless Nicola.

"Welcome, Patricia," said Nicola stiffly as the two ghosts let go of each other.

"Live 'uns!" said Madam Patricia, spotting me, Chris, Sian and Chrissie and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that her head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter).

"Very amusing," said Nearly Headless Nicola darkly.

"Don't mind, Nicola!" shouted Madam Patricia's head from the floor. "Still upset we won't let her join the games! But I mean to say – look at the woman –"

"I think," I said hurriedly, at a meaningful look from Nicola, "Nicola's very – frightening and – er –"

"Ha!" yelled Madam Patricia's head. "Bet she asked you to say that!"

"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" said Nearly Headless Nicola loudly, striding towards the platform and climbing into an icy-blue spotlight.

"My lamented lords, ladies and gentlemen, it's my great sorrow …"

But nobody heard much more than this, for Madam Patricia and the rest of the Headless Games-men and Games-women had just started a game of Head Hockey and the crowd were turning to watch. Nearly Headless Nicola tried vainly to recapture her audience, but gave up as Madam Patricia's head went sailing past her to loud cheers.

I was feeling very cold by this point, not to mention hungry.

"I don't think I can take much more of this," Chrissie muttered, her teeth chattering as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor.

"Let's go," I agreed.

We backed towards the door, nodding and beaming at anyone who looked at us, and a minute later were hurrying back up the passageway full of black candles.

"You never know, pudding might not have finished yet," said Chrissie hopefully, leading the way towards the steps to the Entrance Hall.

And then I heard it.

"… _rip … tear … kill …"_

It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice I had heard in Gold's office.

I stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all my might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

"Kiara, what're you –?"

"It's that voice again – shut up a minute –"

"… _soo hungry … for so long …"_

"Listen!" I said urgently, and Chris, Sian and Chrissie froze, watching me.

"… _kill … time to kill …"_

The voice was growing fainter. I was sure it was moving away – moving upstairs. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped me as I stared at the dark ceiling; how could it be moving upwards? I wondered if it was some kind of phantom, to whom stone or ceilings didn't matter.

"This way," I shouted, and I began to run up the stairs, into the Entrance Hall. It was no good hoping to hear anything here, for the babble of talk from the Hallowe'en feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. I sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, Chris, Sian and Chrissie clattering behind me.

"Kiara, what are we –?"

"SHH!"

I strained my ears. Distantly from the floor above, and growing fainter still, I heard the voice: _"I smell blood … I SMELL BLOOD!"_

My stomach lurched. "It's going to kill someone!" I shouted, and ignoring Chris, Sian and Chrissie's bewildered faces, I ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over my own pounding footsteps.

I whirled around the whole of the second floor, Chris, Sian and Chrissie panting behind me, not stopping until we turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Kiara, _what_ was that all about?" said Chrissie, wiping sweat off her face. "I couldn't hear anything …"

But Sian gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.

" _Look!"_

Something was shining on the wall ahead. We approached, slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming candles.

 _THE CHAMBER OF MYSTERIES HASBEEN OPENED._

 _ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE._

"What's that thing – hanging underneath?" said Chris, a slight quiver in his voice.

As we edged nearer, I almost slipped over; there was a large puddle of water on the floor. Sian and Chris grabbed me, and the four of us inched towards the message, our eyes fixed upon a dark shadow beneath it. All four of us realised what it was at once, and leapt backwards with a splash.

Mrs Robbs, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

For a few seconds we didn't move. Then Chrissie said, "Let's get out of here."

"Shouldn't we try and help –" I began awkwardly.

"Trust me on this one, Kiara," said Sian. "I've been through things like this before, and believe me when I say, we do not want to be found here right now."

"Er, guys," said Chrissie, who was trembling now as she looked up the corridor. "We may have a problem with that idea …"

"What makes you say that, Chrissie?"

"Because the rest of the school is heading this way!" she yelled, pointing down the corridor.

Chris, Sian and I spun round. Chrissie was right, for it was too late for us to move anywhere now. A rumble as though of distant thunder told us that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where we stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people.

"Oh, we're done for this time, I fear," said Chris.

"Of _course_ we're done for!" Sian snapped, looking anxious. "If anyone sees people on a crime scene like this – this has to be called a crime scene now, seeing as it is one," she said, before I could ask, "– the first thought that usually goes through people's heads is, "They're the prime suspects"!"

Of course, Sian was right, for next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.

The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I stood alone in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell amongst the mass of students, peering forward to see the grisly sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next, Sackbrains!"

It was Dani Malty. She had pushed to the front of the crowd, her cold eyes alive, her usually bloodless face flushed, as she grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat. And now I have to move to another chapter, because there is much more for me to write and for you to read, and not only is this chapter done, but things will make a lot more sense in chapter ten than they would do if I kept writing here. See you on the next page!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **The Writing on the Wall**

 **KIARA**

"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Attracted no doubt by Malty's shout, Douglas Match came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs Robbs and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs Robbs?" he shrieked.

And then his popping eyes fell on me.

" _You!"_ he screeched, " _You!_ You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll –"

" _Douglas!"_

Crighton had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, she swept past Chris, Sian, Chrissie and myself and detached Mrs Robbs from the bracket.

"Come with me, Douglas," she said to Match. "You too, Miss Pride-Lander, Sian, Christina and Christopher."

Gold stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmistress – just upstairs – please feel free –"

"Thank you, Giselle," said Crighton.

The silent crowd parted to let us pass. Gold, looking so excited and important, hurried after Crighton; so did Professors Darbus and Triphorm.

As we all entered Gold's darkened office, there was a flurry of movement across the walls; I saw several of the Gold's in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Gold lit the candles on her desk and stood back. Crighton laid Mrs Robbs on the polished surface and began to examine her. Me, Chris, Sian and Chrissie exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching.

The tip of Crighton's long, straight nose was barely an inch from Mrs Robbs' fur. She was looking at her closely through her bright green eyes, her long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor Darbus was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Triphorm loomed behind them all, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression; it was as though she was trying hard not to smile. And Gold was hovering around them all, making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her – probably the Transmorgrifian Torture. I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there; I know the very counter-curse that would have saved her …"

Gold's comments were punctuated by Match's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs Robbs, his face in his hands. Much as I detested Match, I couldn't help feeling sorry for him, though not nearly as I felt for myself. If Crighton believed Match, I would be expelled this time for sure.

Crighton was now muttering strange words under her breath and tapping Mrs Robbs with her wand, but nothing happened; she continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

"… I remember something very similar like this happening in Ouagadougou," said Gold, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography. I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets which cleared the matter up at once …"

The photographs of Gold on the walls were all nodding in agreement as she talked. One of them had forgotten to remove her hairnet.

"Does she ever shut up?" said Chrissie, but only loud enough only for me, Chris and Sian to hear. Me, Sian and Chrissie laughed silently and nodded at this comment, whereas Chris just frowned in disapproval.

At last, Crighton straightened up.

"She's not dead, Douglas," she said softly.

Gold stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders she had prevented.

"Not dead?" said Match, looking through his fingers at Mrs Robbs. "But why's she all – all stiff and frozen?"

"She's been Petrified," said Crighton ("Ah! I thought so!" said Gold). "But how I cannot say …"

"Ask _her_!" shrieked Match, turning his blotched and tear-strained face to me.

"No second-year could have done this," said Crighton firmly. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced –"

"She did it, she did it!" Match spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what she wrote on the wall! She found – in my office – she knows – I'm a – I'm a –" Match's face worked horribly. "She knows I'm a _Squib_!" he finished.

"I never _touched_ Mrs Robbs!" I said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at me, including all the Gold's on the walls. "And I don't even know what a Squib _is_."

"Rubbish!" snarled Match. "She saw my Kwikspell letter!"

"If I might speak, Headmistress," said Triphorm from the shadows, and my sense of foreboding increased; I was sure nothing Triphorm had to say was going to do me any good.

"Pride-Lander and her friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," she said, a slight sneer curling her mouth as though she doubted it, "but we do have a suspicious set of circumstances here? Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all? Why weren't they at the Hallowe'en feast?"

"We didn't do nothing," said Chrissie childishly.

When she had said this, Sian put her head in her hands, then lifted it up a few seconds later, and said, "Sister, do you even hear yourself? Seriously?" Sian then rolled her eyes and shook her head sceptically.

Then Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I all launched into an explanation about the Deathday party, "… there were hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there –"

"But why not join the feast afterwards?" said Triphorm, her brown eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Why go up to that corridor?"

Chris, Sian and Chrissie looked at me.

"Because – because –" I said, my heart thumping very fast; something told me it would sound very far-fetched if I told them at that moment that I had been led there by a bodiless voice no one but myself could hear, "because we were tired and wanted to go to bed," I said.

"Without any supper?" said Triphorm, a triumphant smile flickering across her gaunt face. "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."

"We weren't hungry," said Chrissie as her stomach gave a large rumble.

Triphorm's nasty smile widened.

"I suggest, Headmistress, that Pride-Lander isn't being entirely truthful," she said. "It might be a good idea if she were deprived of certain privileges until she is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel she should be taken off the Lion-Heart Quidditch team until she is ready to be honest."

"Really, Tiana," said Professor Darbus sharply. "I see no reason to stop the girl playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Pride-Lander has done anything wrong."

"If I might say something," said Sian suddenly, "I think that the term "innocent until proven guilty" works well here. What say you, Mother?" As she finished this she turned to Crighton, as did I, who was giving me a searching look. Her twinkling light-green gaze made me feel as though I was being x-rayed.

After a brief examination into my eyes, Crighton then smiled and responded to Sian's statement by saying, "Quite right, Sian. Quite right, indeed. Sorry, Tiana," she said apologetically, a smile flickering across the corners of her mouth as she looked at Triphorm.

Triphorm looked furious. So did Match.

"My cat has been Petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some _punishment_!"

"We will be able to cure her, Douglas," said Crighton patiently. "Professor Spud recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made which will revive Mrs Robbs."

"I'll make it," Gold butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep –"

"Excuse me," said Triphorm icily, "but I believe _I_ am the Potions mistress at this school."

There was a very awkward pause.

"Sian, you stay with me," said Crighton to her, "I need you for a few minutes. You three," she turned to me, Chris and Chrissie, "may go."

"I'll see you in the morning," said Sian to Chris, Chrissie and I.

 **SIAN**

As soon as they left, Sian turned back to her mother, Professor Darbus, Gold and Triphorm, who were both looking steely-eyed at each other. Match was still looking at Mrs Robbs through his tears. Crighton turned to Match and said, "Douglas, I suggest that you take Mrs Robbs down to the hospital wing, seeing as there is nothing more we can do for her now."

Match nodded and walked over to the desk and picked Mrs Robbs up as if she were as delicate and precious as a new-born baby. He then put his head down on her fur and cried over her lifeless body, as if hoping that his tears would revive her. after a few moments he walked out the room with her.

Sian watched him go, feeling sorry for him, for she was an animal lover herself, but she was called back to the present moment by her mother's voice saying, "We have nothing more to be done here. Doreen, Giselle, Tiana, I shall see the three of you in the morning. Sian, I desire a quick word with you outside, if that's all right with you?"

"Of course, Mother," Sian said politely. Crighton smiled and she, Sian, Darbus and Triphorm walked towards the door, Triphorm giving Sian a look of pure venom for the "innocent until proven guilty" statement that she had said before. Sian's face showed Triphorm nothing; she remained cool as ice, but underneath she was quite a bit scared.

Before they had left the room, Crighton turned to Gold and said, "Oh, and Giselle?"

"Yes, Headmistress?"

"Thank you for letting me use your office for this rather unpleasant matter."

"Oh, no problem at all, headmistress! No problem at all! Anytime you need to use me or my quarters, you know where to find me."

Crighton nodded and smiled at Gold as the door closed on her, Sian, Darbus and Triphorm. The last two headed off down the corridor as soon as the door had closed to their own offices and Crighton waited until they had disappeared, then she put one arm behind her daughter's back and strode off a little further down the corridor. She looked around to check that no one was listening, then at Sian's puzzled face.

"What's going on, Mother?" said Sian. "I know you're worried about something. Just tell me what it is you fear."

Crighton bit her lip, and said, "I am scared for the future of this school."

"How so, Ma?"

Then Sian listened carefully to what her mother told her. Sure, some parts shocked her deeply, but she knew how important it was to her mother that this mystery had to be solved, and whatever the creature was that was attacking - not only animals, but also potentially students, too - had to be stopped; and Sian knew that she was one of the few people that her mother trusted with her life. For you see, Sian had done a few important things during her life for her mother, and she always did her job and her duty to her mother well.

Anyhoo, after she had listened to all her mother told her, she agreed to do the task at hand. Her mother beamed with pride and gratitude at what her eldest daughter had just said. But then Crighton said, "Oh, and promise me you won't tell anyone, _especially_ Professor Gold. Well, we both know what she's like, don't we?" Crighton and Sian smiled at each other.

"Do you think you've made a mistake with hiring her, Ma?" Sian asked her mother.

Crighton looked at Gold's closed door then back at Sian and replied, "Between you and me, Siany, I'm starting to think I have." They both laughed at this for a few minutes.

When the giggles had gone, Sian said, "What about Kiara, Chris and Chrissie, Ma? They're going to get suspicious some time soon about what I'm doing, and I'm just wondering should I let them in on my secret sooner or later, don't you think?"

Sian looked at her mother indignantly. Crighton thought about it for a few moments, then said, "Only when they are close, or have heard anything accidentally – well, we both know what Kiara's like – only then you may tell them."

"Thanks, Ma. I'll do it for you, and you have my word that I will keep both promises and not tell Kiara, Chris and Chrissie until they suspect or know."

"That's my girl," said Crighton, as she and Sian hugged. When they let go, Crighton asked Sian, "What will you tell them about our talking tonight, though?"

"Oh, I'll just say that you wanted to know how school was going. No big," said Sian simply, shrugging her shoulders.

Crighton laughed. This was the Sian she knew and liked the most, as Sian knew; the one that made her mother laughed and loved her inquisitive side to her nature. Sian smiled at her mother's laughter. She always enjoyed these times, when she would cheer her mother up after a hard day with just a few simple words that weren't even really that funny. But of course, even that couldn't last for ever …

"I'll start tomorrow, Ma," said Sian, as a chime went off somewhere. "After all, it's getting near midnight, and I need my rest."

"All right, my darling." She and Sian hugged, then let go. "Goodnight, Sian."

"Goodnight, Mother," said Sian. Then she kissed her mother's cheek. "I won't let you down, you know."

Crighton chuckled and said, "Oh, I know you won't. Oh, and before you go." Crighton pulled a silver mirror out of an inside pocket of her robes, "take this with you, just in case." Sian nodded at her mother and then the mother and daughter each retired to her separate bed.

 **KIARA**

Some of what has been said above between Sian and Crighton, Chris, Chrissie and I would find out a bit later on in the year, as will you. The rest, however, Sian only told me to write for this book earlier this year.

Bit getting back to the story. Now, where was I? Ah yes, I remember. Me, Chris and Chrissie had just left Gold's office. We left as quickly as we could without actually running. When we were a floor up from Gold's office, we hurried into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind us. I squinted at my friends in the darkness.

"D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?"

"No," said Chris, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear is not a good sign, even in the wizarding world. Even Sian would tell you that if she were here right now."

Something in Chris' voice made me ask, "You do believe me, don't you?"

"Course I do," said Chris quickly. "But – you must admit it's weird …"

"I know it's weird," I said. "The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? _The Chamber has been opened_ … what's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Chrissie slowly. "I think someone told me about a secret chamber at Dragon Mort once … might've been Dad …"

"And what on earth's a Squib?" I said.

To my surprise, Chris and Chrissie laughed.

"Well – it's not funny _really_ – but as it's Match …" Chrissie said. "A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual. If Match's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much." Chrissie gave a satisfied smile. "He's bitter."

A clock chimed somewhere.

"Midnight," I said. "We'd better get to bed before Triphorm comes along and tries to frame us for something else."

0000

The next day I got a letter off Grandmother Sarabi, which read:

 _My Dearest Kiara,_

 _It's been a while since I've heard from you, which is why I'm writing to ask you how you are and to keep me updated on what's been going on since I wrote to you last. There's been nothing major to report back home and Sarafina sends you her love._

 _Keep me updated with the school._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Grandmother Sarabi_

I wrote back as soon as I read this note. That letter then reads thus:

 _Dear Grandmother Sarabi,_

 _I'm sorry I haven't been writing to you as much as I would have, it's just that I've been very busy of late. You see, first Danielle Malty goes and buys her way on to the Snake-Eyes Quidditch team by buying her and the rest of the Snake-Eyes team Scoot-Zoomer Two Thousand and Ones. Then when Sian makes an honest comment about how she bought her way onto the team, Malty called her the bad "S" word in our world which you never told me about. I got detention with Gold, who is still driving me crazy –just saying seeing as you didn't ask in your note – and I heard a strange, bodiless voice that no one else could hear. I heard it again on Hallowe'en night after Madam Nicola's Deathday party, which wasn't fun and not only for the reason you'd expect. We found the caretaker's cat Mrs Robbs was Petrified and a message written in blood was on the wall which read, "THE CHAMBER OF MYSTERIES HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE." Oh, and thanks for not telling me about the Chamber of Mysteries, by the way. Me, Chris, Sian and Chrissie got caught by this message, and were asked questions by Crighton and a few other teachers at the school. So that's what's been going on so far since I last wrote to you._

 _Write again soon._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Kiara_

I thought that she would be quite shocked by what she read, but I knew she had the right to know; for apart from my closest friends, she was the only other person I felt I could tell about the voice. Anyway, for the next few days, the school could talk of little but the attack on Mrs Robbs. Match kept it fresh in everyone's mind by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. I had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with "Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover", but to no effect; the message still gleaned as brightly as ever on the stone. When Match wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly" and "looking happy".

Kestrel Dawson seemed very disturbed by Mrs Robbs' fate. According to Sian, she was a great cat-lover.

"But you hadn't really got to _know_ Mrs Robbs," Chris told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Kestrel's lips trembled. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Dragon Mort," Chris assured her. "They'll catch the nutter who did it and have him or her thrown out of here in no time. I just hope they've got time to Petrify Match before they're expelled. I'm only joking –" Chris added hastily, as Kestrel blanched.

The attack had also had an effect on Sian. It was quite usual for Sian to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Also, her disappearances were becoming more frequent than usual after class time; after all, it was normal for her to be gone from time to time for her mother's sake, but she was gone almost daily now. Nor could Chris, Chrissie or myself get much response from her at this point when we asked what she was up to , and not until the following Wednesday did we find out what she was doing with the reading.

If I remember correctly, I had just been held back in Potions, because Triphorm had made me stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. After a hurried lunch, I went upstairs to find Chris and Chrissie in the library. I saw Justine Cole, the Badger-Stripes girl from Herbology, coming towards me. I just opened my mouth to say hello when Justine caught sight of me, turned abruptly and sped off in the other direction. I thought this was odd at the time, but this was before I found out – wait, I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? Sorry folks, but back to the story.

I found Chris and Chrissie in the back of the library, measuring their History of Magic homework. Professor Yawn had asked for a three-foot long composition on "The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards".

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short …" said Chrissie furiously, letting go of the parchment which sprang back into a roll, "and Sian's done four feet seven inches more and her writing's _tiny_."

"Where is she, anyway?" I asked, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling my own homework.

"Somewhere over there," said Chris, and was pointing along the shelves. He had measured his homework before Chrissie, and seeing that it was three feet long exactly, had passed the tape measure to Chrissie before I joined them. He was now watching us and caught me up on this, before he explained what Sian was doing. "She's looking for another book. We think she's trying to read the entire library before Christmas, and we still haven't found out about her unusual disappearances."

I told Chris and Chrissie about Justine Cole running away from me.

"Don't know why you care, I thought she was a bit of an idiot," said Chrissie, "all that rubbish about Gold being so great –"

"She _is_ great, Chrissie," Chris exclaimed, as me and Chrissie rolled our eyes at him. "Why can't you two and Sian see that?"

"Er, because we're not the ones who are blinded by her beauty, Chris. That's all you," I said.

"Yeah, Kiara's right, bro," Chrissie said, "and besides, Sian agrees with us on this point, and will tell you so herself. Here she comes now, in fact."

Chrissie nodded her head and me and Chris spun our heads round; sure enough, Sian emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and at last seemed ready to talk to us.

"All the copies of _Dragon Mort: A History_ have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to Chrissie. "And there's a two week waiting list. I _wish_ I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it into my trunk with all the Gold books."

"Why do you want it?" I said.

"The same reason everyone else wants it," said Sian, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Mysteries."

"What's that?" I said quickly.

"That's just it. I can't remember," said Sian, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else –"

"Has your mother told you anything about the chamber?" I asked them.

Sian was the one who replied, for she said, "Well, no. She never told us anything about it. I think she was scared about … something." She hesitated, which suggested to Chris, Chrissie and I that she was hiding something which her mother had told her to hide, so we didn't push her; well, except Chrissie, as per usual.

"Sian, are you going to tell us where you've been disappearing off to lately?" she asked her sister.

"I'm afraid I can't, sister," said Sian. "Mother made me swear not to tell anyone until she says I can. And Chris, Chrissie," she said, turning to each of them in turn as she said their names, "we know that our mother's word is law." Chris and Chrissie nodded in agreement with this fact.

"Hey, S.D.?" Chrissie asked nervously.

"Yes, Chrissie?"

"Can you let me read your composition, please?" she said desperately, checking her watch.

"No, I won't," said Sian, suddenly severe. "You've had _ten days_ to finish it."

"But I only need another two inches, go on …"

The bell rang; Sian and Chrissie led the way to History of Magic, bickering.

History of Magic was the dullest subject on our timetable. Professor Yawn, who taught it, was our only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shrivelled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staff-room fire; his routine had not varied in the slightest since.

Today was a boring as ever. Professor Yawn opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming round enough to copy down a name or date, then fall asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before: Sian put up her hand.

Professor Yawn, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed.

"Miss – er –"

"Dawson, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Mysteries," said Sian in a clear voice.

Dena Wright, who had been sitting with her mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of her trance; Larry Brown's head came off of his arms and Nikita's elbow slipped off her desk.

Professor Yawn blinked.

"My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with _facts_ , Miss Dawson, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk snapping and continued, "In September of that year, a sub-committee of Sardinian Sorcerers –"

He stuttered to a halt. Sian's hand was waving in the air again.

"Miss Dawgon?"

"Please, sir, don't myths and legends always have a basis in fact?"

Professor Yawn was looking at her in such amazement; I was sure that no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead.

"Well," said Professor Yawn slowly, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Sian as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very _sensational_ , even a _ludicrous_ tale …"

But all of us in the class were now hanging on Professor Yawn's every word. He looked dimly at us all, every face turned to his. I could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.

"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see … the Chamber of Mysteries …

"As you all know, of course, that Dragon Mort was founded over a thousand years ago – the precise date is uncertain – by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after them: Louisa Lion-Heart, Bartholomew Badger-Stripes, Rowan Raven-Wing and Selena Snake-Eyes. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

He paused, gazed blearily round the room, and continued, "For a few years, the founders worked in harmony, peace and light together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Snake-Eyes and the others. Snake-Eyes wished to be more _selective_ about the students admitted to Dragon Mort. She believed that magical learning should be kept with people who want to actually learn and new people to answer questions, along with those who were not born with any magical talents. She disliked taking students of high intelligence, along with those who were Muggle-borns, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while there was a serious argument between Snake-Eyes and Lion-Heart, and Snake-Eyes left the school."

Professor Yawn paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said, "but these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Mysteries. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Mysteries, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual sleepy silence that filled Professor Yawn's classes. There was unease in the air as we all continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Yawn looked faintly annoyed.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Sian's hand was back in the air again.

"Sir – what exactly do you mean by the "horror within" the chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, that the heir of Snake-Eyes alone can control," said Professor Yawn in his dry, reedy voice.

We all in the class exchanged nervous looks.

"I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Yawn, shuffling his notes. "There is no chamber and no monster."

"But, sir," said Zara Finn, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Snake-Eyes true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, Fingers," said Professor Yawn in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Dragon Mort headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing –"

"But, Professor," piped up Sarah Rimmer, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it –"

"Just because a witch _doesn't_ use Dark Magic doesn't mean she _can't_ , Miss Runner," snapped Professor Yawn. "I repeat, if the likes of Crighton –"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Snake-Eyes, so Crighton couldn't –" began Dena Wright, but Professor Yawn had had enough.

"That will do,"he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Snake-Eyes ever built so much as even a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to _history_ , to solid, believable, verifiable _fact!_ "

And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor. Of course, Professor Yawn would regret saying that that story was foolish after what me, Chris, Sian and Chrissie uncovered, but we'll get to what me and my friends uncovered later. Besides, Professor Yawn, I've heard, has retold the story in its form above, and has included what Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I uncovered which I'm grateful for, for I'm pretty sure that – whoops, almost got ahead of myself again. Sorry about that. now though, back to the story.

0000

"I always knew Selena Snake-Eyes was a twisted old loony," Chrissie told me, Chris and Sian, as we fought our way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop our bags off before dinner. "But I never knew she started all this bright-brain/Muggle-born stuff. I wouldn't be in her house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Snake Head had placed me in Snake-Eyes, I'd have got one of the submarines straight back home …"

Chris and Sian nodded fervently, but I didn't say anything. My stomach had dropped unpleasantly.

I had never told Chris, Sian or Chrissie that the Snake Head spoke to me in my head and had seriously considered putting me in Snake-Eyes. I could remember, as though it was yesterday, seeing the Snake and the Lion Heads argue over me. I can't remember what they said about me, but what I do know is that at the end of the day, I got put in Lion-Heart.

As we were shunted along in the throng, Colleen McCreevy went past.

"Hiya, Kiara!"

"Hullo, Colleen," I said automatically.

"Kiara – Kiara – a girl in my class has been saying you're –"

But Colleen was so small that she couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing her towards the Great Hall; we heard her squeak, "See you, Kiara!" and she was gone.

"What's a girl in her class been saying about you?" Sian wondered.

"That I'm Snake-Eyes' heir, I expect," I said, my stomach dropping another inch or so, as I remembered the way Justine Cole had run away from me at lunchtime.

"People round here'll believe anything," said Chris in disgust.

The crowd thinned and we were able to climb the next staircase without difficulty.

"D'you think there _really_ is a Chamber of Mysteries?" Chrissie asked Sian.

"I don't know," she said frowning. "Ma couldn't cure Mrs Robbs, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be – well – _human_."

As we spoke, we turned a corner and found ourselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. We stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat handing from the torch bracket, and no empty chair stood against the wall bearing the message "The Chamber has been opened".

"That's where Match has been keeping guard," Chrissie muttered.

We looked at each other. The corridor was deserted.

"Can't hurt to have a poke around," I said, dropping my bag and getting to my hands and knees so that I could crawl along, searching for clues. But before I could crawl, a voice behind me said –

"You won't find anything, much."

I spun around and looked at Sian, as did Chris and Chrissie. Her sudden look of shock, along with an expression that clearly said, "Whoops, I've said too much", was quickly covered up by her poker face.

"How do you know we won't find anything here, Sian?" I asked her suspiciously. Chris and Chrissie were eyeing her suspiciously, too.

"I don't," Sian said coolly. "I just have a feeling, that's all." She said this so convincingly that Chris, Chrissie and I bought this. After all, at this point in the story we didn't know that she was - well, we'll get to that later. Besides, me, Chris and Chrissie knew what she was like with her feelings that she had, so we didn't push her, but we decided to have a look anyway, Sian rather reluctantly.

"Scorch marks!" I said. "Here – and here –"

"Come and look at this!" said Sian. "This is funny …"

I got up and crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. Sian was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small gap in the glass. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had climbed through it in their hurry to get outside.

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" said Sian wonderingly.

"No," said Chris.

"Nor me," I said, "have you, Chrissie? Chrissie?"

I looked over my shoulder. Chrissie was standing well back, and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.

"What's up?" I said.

Sian gasped, and said, "Oh, I forgot …"

"Forgot what?"

Sian bit her lip and replied, "She hates spiders."

"It's – true – I – do," said Chrissie tensely.

"I never knew that," said Chris, looking at Chrissie in surprise. "Hang on, why did you and Sian never tell me this?"

Sian answered this immediately: "Because we knew you'd take the mick."

"But, you've used spiders loads of times in Potions, Chrissie," said Chris.

"I don't mind them dead," said Chrissie, who was carefully looking anywhere but the window, "I just don't like the way they move …"

Chris giggled.

"It's not funny," said Chrissie fiercely. "If you must know, when Tanya and Geri came round one day and I was three, Geri turned my – my teddy bear into a dirty great spider, because when we went to visit them, I broke her toy broomstick. You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and …"

She broke off, shuddering. Chris was still obviously trying hard not to laugh. Feeling that we had better get off the subject, I said, "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up?"

"It was about here," said Chrissie, recovering herself to walk a few paces past Match's chair and pointing. "Level with this door." Chrissie then walked to the door and reached for the brass doorknob, but suddenly withdrew her hand as though she'd been burned.

"What's the matter?" I said.

"Can't go in there," said Chrissie gruffly, "that's a boys' toilet."

"Oh, Chrissie, there won't be anyone in there," said Chris, just beside the door. "That's Old Moany's place. Come on – let's have a look."

And ignoring the large "Out of Order" sign, he opened the door.

It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom that I had ever been in (and still is, by the way). In the middle of the room were a number of sinks in a circular ring, and further along the room were the cubicles on one side and more sinks on the other. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the cubicles were flaking and scratched, and one of them was hanging off its hinges.

Chris put his fingers to his lips and set off towards the end cubicle. When he reached it he said, "Hello, Moany, how are you?"

Sian, Chrissie and I went to look. Old Moany was floating on the cistern of the toilet, picking a spot on his chin.

"This is a _boy's_ bathroom," he said, eyeing Sian, Chrissie and I suspiciously. " _They're_ not boys."

"No," Chris agreed. "I just wanted to show them how – er – nice it is in here."

He waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror over the sinks on the other side of the room and the damp floor.

"Ask him if he saw anything," I mouthed at Chris.

"What are you whispering?" said Moany, staring at me.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "We wanted to ask –"

"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Moany, in a voice which was beginning to choke up. "I _do_ have feelings, you know, even if I am dead."

"Moany, no one wants to upset you," Chris said. "Kiara only –"

"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" howled Moany. "My life was nothing but misery at this place, and now people come along ruining my death!"

"We wanted to ask if you'd seen anything funny lately," said Sian quickly, "because a cat was attacked right outside your door on Hallowe'en."

"Did you see anyone near here that night?" I said.

"I wasn't paying attention," said Moany dramatically. "Weeves upset me so much that I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then of course, I remembered that I'm – that I'm –"

"Already dead," said Chrissie hopefully.

Moany gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over and dived head first into the toilet, splashing water all over us and vanishing from sight; from the direction of the muffled sobs, he had come to rest somewhere in the u-bend.

Sian, Chrissie and I stood with our mouths open, but Chris shrugged and said, "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Moany … come on, let's go."

I had barely closed the door on Moany's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all four of us jump.

"WHAT ARE YOU FOUR DOING?"

Perdy the Prefect had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, Prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on her face.

"That's a _boy's_ bathroom!" she gasped. "What were _you_ –?"

"Just having a look around," Chrissie shrugged. "Clues, you know …"

Perdy swelled in a manner that reminded me fully of Sian.

"Get – away – from – there –" she said, striding towards us and starting to chivvy us along, flapping her arms. "Don't you _care_ what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner …"

"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Chrissie hotly, stopping short and glaring at Perdy.

"Yeah, and besides," said Chris, backing Chrissie up, "we never laid a finger on that cat!"

"That's what I told Kestrel, poor thing," said Perdy fiercely.

"Is she all right?" Sian asked concernedly.

"All I know is that she seems to be under the impression that you four are going to be expelled; I've never seen anyone so upset, crying her eyes out. She was when I saw her, the poor dear. You might think of _her_ , Chrissie. All the first-years are thoroughly over-excited by this business. And you might start thinking about Kestrel too, Sian," Perdy said, turning to Sian, making her look stunned and confused. "After all, you are her elder sister and are meant to be looking out for her –"

"Perdy, I _do_ look out for her!" said Sian indignantly.

"Then _prove it_ , Sian!"

"Hey, are you saying that our eldest sister, who has taken care of us for years, far more effectively than our parents have, doesn't care about any of us?" said Chris.

"Yeah, 'cause if so, you've got another thing coming, Perdy!" said Chrissie.

Sian shook her head and said, "Of _course_ she's not saying that, you two, so just calm down right now!" she said, sounding like her usual, bossy self. She looked st Perdy, and said in a much calmer, caring tone, "Thank you for telling me that, Perdy. I'll make sure that she's all right and she gets cheered up, too. I'll also get Beth to keep an eye on her for me – well, you know how close those two are – and I'll help her with her homework a bit more, and make sure that she gets a bit more rest. That's what's needed here, me thinks."

"Thank you, Sian," said Perdy, with a small smile at her. "Chrissie, you'd better start taking a leaf out of Sian's book. She's got her priorities in the right place."

"Oh, don't you start on me with your moaning and your groaning, Perdy!" said Chrissie. "I get enough of that from Sian as it is –"

"Hey!" Sian said, looking insulted. "I am _right here_ , you know!"

Chrissie turned to Sian, her expression quickly switching from angry to apologetic and said, "Sorry, Sian. Just making a point here. No offence was intended, I assure you."

"Thank you," said Sian, looking much happier now. "Just make sure you don't say anything like to me or anything else again, you hear me, sister?"

Chrissie nodded her head slowly at Sian, who said, "Good," and left it at that.

Chrissie turned back to Perdy and said, "You're just worried that you won't get your Head Girl badge!"

"Five points from Lion-Heart!" said Perdy tersely, fingering her Prefect badge. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more _detective_ work, or I'll be writing to your father and seeing the headmistress; seeing as she's your mother, she could sort you out!"

And she strode off, the back of her neck as red as Chrissie's cheeks.

0000

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I chose seats as far as possible from Perdy in the common room that night. Chrissie was still in a very bad temper and kept blotting her Charms homework. When she reached absently for her wand to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Fuming almost as much as her homework, Chrissie slammed _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ shut. To mine and Chris' surprise, Sian followed suit. She also told me after Perdy had walked off that she and the rest of the Dawson family were known for having unfortunate bad tempers, too, so it was nothing big for them, and that I should really think nothing of it. She also talked to Beth straight after dinner about keeping a close eye on Kestrel, which Beth agreed to; and part of their agreement was that Sian would talk to Beth in secret every week or so to see how Kestrel was and to not tell Kestrel anything.

"Who can it be, though?" she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation we had just been having. "Who'd want all the Squibs, bright-brains and Muggle-borns out of Dragon Mort?"

"Let's think," said Chrissie, in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks that bright-brains and Muggle-borns are scum?"

She looked at Sian. Sian looked back, unconvinced.

"If you're talking about Malty –"

"Of course I am!" said Chrissie. "You heard her . _"You'll be next, Sackbrains!"_ Come on, you've only got to look at her foul rat face to know it's her –"

"Malty, the heir of Snake-Eyes?" said Sian sceptically.

"Look at her family," I said, closing my books too. "The whole lot of them have been in Snake-Eyes, she's always boasting about it. They could easily be Snake-Eyes descendents. Her mother's definitely evil enough."

"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Mysteries for centuries!" said Chris. "Handing it down, mother to daughter …"

"Well," said Sian cautiously, "it is possible …"

"But how do we prove it?" I said darkly.

"There might be a way," said Sian slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Perdy. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect."

"If, in a month, you decide to explain yourself, you will let us know, won't you?" said Chrissie irritably.

"All right," said Sian coldly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Snake-Eyes common room and ask Malty a few questions without her realising it's us."

"But that's impossible," I said, as Chris and Chrissie laughed.

"No, it's not," said Sian. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."

"What's that?" said Chris, Chrissie and I together.

"Triphorm mentioned it in class a few weeks ago –"

"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Triphorm?" muttered Chrissie.

"It transforms you into someone else. Think about it! We could change into four Snake-Eyes. No one would know it was us. Malty would probably tell us anything. She's probably boasting about it in the Snake-Eyes common room right now, if only we could hear her."

"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," said Chris, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like four of the Snake-Eyes for ever?"

"It wears off after a while," said Sian, waving her hand impatiently, but getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Triphorm said it was in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_ and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library."

There was only one way to get a book from the Restricted Section; you needed a signed note of permission from a teacher. But something weird happened after Sian said the word "library"; for you see, Chris said "yes", and Chrissie groaned.

"Why are you happy about that?" I asked Chris.

"It's because I like to sleep in a library, Kiara?" he answered simply.

"I'm sorry, but you like to _sleep_ in a _library_?" I said sceptically.

"Yes," Sian said, "you see, Kiara, the reason why my brother likes to sleep in a library is because he finds the gentle and silent hum soothing to his mind and his aura, and therefore it helps him sleep."

"OK," I said slowly, as I turned to Chrissie. "But Chrissie, why did you groan?"

"Because working makes me hungry," she said grumpily.

"Sister, you're _always_ hungry," said Sian pointedly.

"No, I'm not!" said Chrissie defensively.

"Yes, you are, Chrissie, for you're eating a chocolate bar right now," said Sian, pointing to the chocolate bar in Chrissie's hand, proving a point as always.

"OK, you've got me," said Chrissie. "It's just that I really hate going to the library, 'cause it feels like working."

"Oh, come on now, Chrissie," Sian exasperated, pointing her head to the sky and then looking at Chrissie. "I mean, it's not as if all the books in the library are going to swoop down on you all at once and start eating you alive from cover to cover now, is it?"

There were times when Sian had a sense of humour, and it had to be appreciated, and this was one of those times; for as soon as she said this, Chris and I started laughing, and Sian had a satisfied smile on her face. Chrissie, however, was not impressed by this. When Chris and I had calmed down, we saw that she was looking rather glum.

"Sorry, Chrissie," I said, "but you gotta admit, Sian does have a point." And you know what, Chrissie actually acknowledged that Sian was right, which was a rare moment for both her and Sian.

Then Chrissie said, "Getting back to the point, though; I mean, it's hard to see why we'd want the book, really, if we weren't going to try and make one of the Potions."

"I think," said Chris, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance …"

"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Chrissie. "They'd have to be really thick ..."

"Then I think we may just have a chance," said Sian slowly, with a rather cunning grin on her face and nodding all the while.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **The Rogue Bludger**

 **KIARA**

Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Gold didn't bring any more live creatures to her class. Instead, she read passages from her books to us, and sometimes re-enacted some of the more dramatic bits. She usually picked me to help her with these reconstructions; so far, I had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Gold had cured of a babbling curse, a yeti with a head-cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Gold had dealed with her.

I was forced to the front of the class again during our next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf. If I hadn't had a very good reason for keeping Gold in a good mood, I wouldn't have bothered to agree to it.

"Nice loud howl, Kiara – exactly – and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced – like this – _slammed_ her to the floor – thus – with one hand, I managed to hold her down – with my other, I put my wand to her throat – I then screwed up my remaining strength and informed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm – She let out a piteous moan – go on, Kiara – higher than that – good – the fur vanished – the fangs shrank – and she turned back into a woman. Simple, yet effective – and another village will remember me as the hero who delivered them from their monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

The bell rang and Gold got to her feet.

"Homework! Compose a poem about my defeat of the Valencia Werewolf! Signed copies of _Magical Me_ to the author of the best one!"

The rest of the class began to leave. I returned to the back of the room, where Chris, Sian and Chrissie were waiting.

"Ready?" I muttered.

"Wait 'til everyone's gone," said Sian nervously. "All right, Chris, here –" she passed him a little piece of paper. "You know what to do."

Chris nodded and approached Gold's desk, the paper clutched tightly in his hand, me, Sian and Chrissie right behind him.

"Er – Professor Gold?" Chris stammered. "I wanted to – to get this book out of the library for – for Sian and – and me. We want it just for background reading." He held out the piece of paper, his hand shaking slightly. "But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign it – I'm sure it'll help her – and me – understand what you say in _Chilling with Ghouls_ about slow-acting venom."

"Ah, _Chilling with Ghouls_!" said Gold, taking the note from Chris and smiling at him. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh, yes," said Chris eagerly. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with a tea-strainer …"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student in the year and her adopted brother a little help," said Gold warmly, and she pulled out an enormous peacock quill. "Yes, nice, isn't it?" she said, misreading the revolted look on Chrissie's face. "I usually save it for my book signings."

She scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Chris.

"So, Kiara," said Gold, whilst Chris folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into his bag, "tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Lion-Heart versus Snake-Eyes, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players …"

I made an indistinct noise in my throat and then hurried off after Chris, Sian and Chrissie.

"I don't believe it," I said, as the four of us examined the signature of the note, "she didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"That's because she's a brainless cow," said Chrissie. "But who cares, we've got what we needed."

"She is _not_ a brainless cow," said Chris indignantly, as we half-ran towards the library.

"Just because she said you are the adopted brother of the best student in the year …"

We dropped our voices as we entered the muffled stillness of the library.

Mr Pincer, the librarian, was a thin, irritable looking man who looked like an underfed vulture.

" _Moste Potente Potions?"_ he said suspiciously, trying to take the note from Chris, but Chris wouldn't let go.

"I was wondering if I could keep it," he said breathlessly.

"Oh, come on," said Sian, wrenching it from his grasp and thrusting it at Sir Pincer. "We'll get you another autograph. Gold'll sign anything if it stands still long enough."

Mr Pincer held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. He stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and mouldy old book. Chris passed it to Sian, who put it carefully in her bag and we left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty.

Five minutes later, we were barricaded in Old Moany's out-of-order bathroom once again. Chris had overridden Chrissie's objections by pointing out that it was the last place anyone in their right minds would go, so we were guaranteed some privacy. Old Moany was crying noisily in his cubicle, but we were ignoring him, and he us.

Sian opened _Moste Potente Potions_ carefully, and the four of us bent over the damp-spotted pages. It was clear from a glance why it belonged in the Restricted Section. Some of the potions had effects almost too gruesome to think about, and there were some very unpleasant illustrations, which included a man who seemed to have been turned inside out and a witch sprouting extra pairs of arms out of her head.

"Here it is," said Sian excitedly, as she found the page headed _The Polyjuice Potion_. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transformations of other people. I sincerely hoped the artist had imagined the looks of intense pain on their faces. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," said Sian, as we scanned the recipe. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed and knotgrass," she murmured, running her finger down the list of ingredients. "Well, they're easy enough, they're in the student store-cupboard; we can help ourselves. Oooh, look, powdered horn of a Bicorn – don't know where we're going to get that … shredded skin of a Boomslang – that'll be tricky too – and of course a bit of whoever we want to change into …"

"Excuse me?" said Chrissie sharply. "What do you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking _nothing_ with Crate's toenails in it …"

Sian continued as though she hadn't heard her.

"We don't have to worry about that bit yet, though, because we add those bits last …"

Chris turned, speechless, to me, who had another worry on my mind.

"D'you realise how much we're going to have to steal, Sian? Shredded skin of Boomslang, that's definitely not in the students' store-cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Triphorm's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea …"

Sian shut the book with a snap.

"Well, if you three are going to chicken out, fine," she said. There were bright pink patches on her cheeks and her eyes were brighter than usual. " _I_ don't want to break the rules, you know. _I_ think that threatening Bright-brains and Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malty, I'll go straight back to Sir Pincer now and hand the book back in …"

"I never thought I'd see the day when _you'd_ be persuading _us_ to break the rules," said Chrissie, as Chris laughed. "All right, we'll do it. But no toenails, OK?"

"How long will it take to make, anyway?" I said, as Sian, looking happier, opened the book again.

"Well, as the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days … I'd say it'll be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients."

" _A month!"_ said Chris. "Malty could have attacked all the Bright-Brains and Muggle-borns in the school by then!" But Sian's eyes narrowed dangerously again, and he added swiftly, "But it's the best plan we've got, so full steam ahead, I say."

However, whilst Sian was checking the coast was clear for us to leave the bathroom, Chris muttered to me whilst Chrissie listened on, "It'll be a lot easier if you can just knock Malty off her broom tomorrow."

0000

I woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Quidditch match. I was nervous, mainly at the thought of what Cane would say if Lion-Heart lost, but also the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms that money could buy at the current time. I had never wanted to beat Snake-Eyes so badly as I did than I did that day. After half an hour of me lying in bed with my insides churning, I got up, dressed and went down to breakfast early, where I found the rest of the Lion-Heart team huddled at the long, empty Dawsons' special table (the Lion-Heart team were allowed to sit here when they were playing a match that day), all looking uptight and not speaking much.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Chris, Sian and Chrissie came hurrying over to me with good luck as I entered the changing rooms. We all pulled on our scarlet Quidditch uniforms, and then sat down to listen to Cane's usual pre-match pep talk.

"Snake-Eyes have better brooms than us," she began, "no point denying it. But we've got better _people_ on our brooms. We've trained harder than _they_ have and we've been flying in all weathers –" ("Too true," said Geri Fang. "I haven't been properly dry since August." "– and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malty, buy her way onto their team."

Chest heaving with emotion, Cane turned on me.

"It'll be down to you, Kiara, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich mother. Get to that Snitch before Malty or die trying, Kiara, because we've got to win today, we've got to."

"So no pressure, Kiara," said Tanya Fang, winking at me.

As we walked out on to the pitch, a roar of noise greeted us; mainly cheers, because Raven-Wings and Badger-Stripes were anxious to see Snake-Eyes beaten, but the Snake-Eyes in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard too. Sir Turner, the Quidditch teacher, asked Spark and Cane to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Sir Turner, "three … two … one …"

With a roar from the crowd to speed us upwards, the fourteen players, which included myself, of course, rose beneath the leaden sky. I flew higher than the rest of them, squinting around for the Snitch.

"All right there, Scarhead?" yelled Malty, shooting underneath me as though to show off the speed of her broom.

I had no time to reply. At that moment a heavy black Bludger came pelting towards me; I avoided it so narrowly that I felt it ruffle my hair as it passed.

"Close one, Kiara!" said Geri, streaking past me with her club in her hand, ready to knock the Bludger back towards a Snake-Eyes. I saw Geri give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Alicia Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in mid-air and shot straight for me again.

I dropped quickly to avoid it, and Geri managed to hit it towards Malty. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at my head.

I put on a burst of speed and zoomed towards the other end of the pitch. I could hear the Bludger whistling along behind me. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this, it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible.

Tanya Fang was waiting for the Bludger at the other end of the pitch. I ducked as Tanya swung at the Bludger with all her might; the Bludger was knocked off course.

"That's done it!" Tanya yelled happily, but she was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to me, the Bludger pelted after me once more and I was forced to fly at full speed.

It had started to rain; I felt heavy drops fall onto my face. I didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game, until I hear, "Snake-Eyes lead, sixty points to zero."

The Snake-Eyes superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock me out of the air. Tanya and Geri were now flying so close to me that I could see nothing at all except their flailing arms, and had no chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it.

"Someone's – tampered – with – this – Bludger –" Tanya growled, swinging her bat with all her might as it launched a new attack on me.

"We need time out," said Geri, trying to signal Cane and stop the Bludger breaking my nose at the same time.

Cane had obviously got the message. Sir Turner's whistle rang out and me, Tanya and Geri dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.

"What's going on?" said Cane, as me and the rest of the Lion-Heart team huddled together, while Snake-Eyes in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened! Tanya, Geri, where were you when that Bludger stopped Andrew scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above him, trying to stop the other Bludger murder Kiara, Olivia," said Geri angrily. "Someone's fixed it; it won't leave Kiara alone, and it hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Snake-Eyes must have done something to it."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Sir Turner's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then …" said Cane anxiously.

Sir Turner was walking towards us. Over my shoulder, I could see the Snake-Eyes team jeering and pointing in my direction.

"Listen," I said, as he came nearer and nearer, "with you two flying round me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve," I said. "Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."

"Don't be thick," said Tanya. "It'll take your head off."

Cane was looking from me to the Fangs.

"Olivia, this is mad," said Aaron Spinnet angrily. "You can't let Kiara deal with that thing on her own. Let's ask for an inquiry –"

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" I said. "And we're not losing the match to Snake-Eyes because of a mad Bludger! Come on, Olivia, tell them to leave me alone!"

"This is all your fault," said Geri angrily to Cane. " "Get the Snitch or die trying" – what a stupid thing to tell her!"

Sir Turner had joined us.

"Ready to resume play?" she asked Cane.

Cane looked at the determined look on my face.

"All right," she said. "Tanya, Geri, you heard Kiara – leave her alone and let her deal with the Bludger on her own."

The rain was falling heavily now. On Sir Turner's whistle, I kicked hard into the air and heard the tell-tale whoosh of the Bludger behind me. Higher and higher I climbed. I looped and swooped, spiralled, zig-zagged and rolled. Slightly dizzy, I nevertheless kept my eyes wide open. Rain was running up my nostrils as I hung upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the Bludger. I could hear laughter from the crowd; I knew I must have looked very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as I could. I began a kind of roller-coaster ride around the edge of the stadium, squinting through the silver sheets of rain to the Lion-Heart goalposts, where Alicia Pucey was trying to get past Cane …

A whistling in my ear told me that the Bludger had just missed me again; I turned round and sped in the opposite direction.

"Training for the ballet, Pride-Lander?" yelled Malty, as I was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in mid-air to dodge the Bludger. Off I fled, the Bludger trailing a few feet behind me: and then, glaring back at Malty in hatred, I saw it, _the Golden Snitch_. It was hovering a inches above Malty's left ear, and Malty, busy laughing at me, hadn't seen it.

For an agonising moment, I hung in mid-air, not daring to speed towards Malty in case she saw it.

WHAM!

I had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger had hit me at last, smashing into my elbow, and I felt my arm break. Dimly dazed by the searing pain in my arm, I slid sideways on my rain-drenched broom, one knee still crooked over it, my right arm dangling useless at my side. The Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time aiming at my face. I swerved out of the way, one idea lodged in my numb brain: _get to Malty_.

Through a haze of rain and pain I dived for the shimmering, sneering face below me and saw its eyes widen with fear; Malty thought I was attacking her.

" _What the –?"_ she gasped, careering out of my way.

I took my remaining hand off my broom and made a wild snatch; I felt my fingers close on the cold Snitch but was now only gripping the broom with my legs and there was a yell from the crowd below as I headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass out.

With a splattering thud I hit the mud and rolled off my broom. My arm was hanging at a very strange angle. Riddled with pain, I heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. I focussed on the Snitch in my good hand.

"Aha," I said vaguely, "we've won."

And then I fainted.

I came round a few minutes later, rain falling on my face, still lying on the pitch, with someone leaning over me. I saw a glitter of teeth, which did not help.

"Oh no, not you," I moaned.

"Doesn't know what she's saying," said Gold loudly to the anxious crowd of Lion-Hearts' around us. "Not to worry, Kiara. I am about to fix your arm."

" _No!"_ I said. "I'll keep it like this, thanks …"

I tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible. I heard a familiar clicking noise nearby.

"I don't want a photo of this, Colleen," I said loudly.

"Lie back, Kiara," said Gold soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless of times."

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" I said through gritted teeth.

"I agree with Kiara, Professor," said a voice I was glad to hear; Sian, who was kneeling on the other side of me, and was ignoring Gold trying to keep me on the ground and was trying to help me on my feet. "Not to be rude or anything, but it would be best if she got help from more … _practiced_ _hands_ than your own, ma'am."

"I agree with Sian here, Professor," said Cane, who couldn't help grinning even though her Seeker was injured. "Great capture, Kiara, really spectacular. Your best yet, I'd say."

Through the thicket of legs around me, I spotted Tanya and Geri wrestling the rogue Bludger into a box. It was still putting up a terrific fight.

"Stand back," said Gold, who was rolling up her jade-green sleeves.

"No, don't –" I began wearily.

"Professor, please – oh … too … late …" said Sian, as Gold was twirling her wand and a second later had directed it straight at my arm.

A strange and unpleasant sensation started at my shoulder and spread all the way down to my fingertips. It felt as though my arm was being deflated. I didn't dare look at what was happening. I had shut my eyes, my face turned away from my arm, but my worst fears were realised as the people around me gasped and Colleen McCreevy began clicking away madly. My arm didn't hurt any more – but nor did it feel remotely like an arm.

"Ah," said Gold. "Yes, well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Kiara, just toddle up to the hospital wing – ah, Miss Dawson, Miss Dawson, Mr Rickers, would you escort her? – and Matron will be able to – er – tidy you up a bit."

"I _told_ you, you should have let her go to the hospital wing," said Sian suddenly, making us all jump and looking furiously at Gold. "I _told_ you, you should have let her be healed by more practiced hands. Come on, Kiara," she said, turning to me and speaking to me in a much more kinder tone, whilst she and Chrissie helped me to my feet. "Honestly, Professor, you've already proved to us that you are completely useless. How much more useless are you going to prove to us than you already are right now?" And with one arm round me, she shot one more glare at Gold, she and Chrissie bore me off towards the hospital wing, with Chris bringing up the rear.

As Sian and Chrissie were holding me, with Chris close behind us, I felt strangely lopsided. Taking a deep breath, I looked down at my right side. What I saw nearly made me pass out again.

Poking out of the end of my uniform was a what looked like a thick, flesh-coloured rubber glove. I tried to move my fingers. Nothing happened.

Gold hadn't mended my bones. She had removed them.

0000

As you can expect, Matron was not at all pleased.

"You should have been brought straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour ago, had been a working arm. "I can mend bones in a heart beat – but growing them back –"

"You will be able to, won't you?" I said desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it'll be painful," said Matron grimly, throwing me a pair of pyjamas. "You'll have to stay the night …"

Chris waited outside the curtain drawn around my bed while Sian and Chrissie helped me into my pyjamas. It took a while to stuff the rubbery, boneless arm into a sleeve.

"How can you stand up for Gold now, Chris, eh?" Chrissie called through the curtain as she and Sian pulled my limp fingers through the cuff. "If Kiara wanted de-boning she would have asked."

"Anyone can make a mistake," said Chris, "and it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Kiara?"

"No," I said, "but it doesn't do anything else, either."

As I swung myself onto the bed, my arm flapped pointlessly.

Chris and Matron came round the curtain. Matron was holding a large bottle of something called "Skele-Gro".

"You're in fro a rough night," she said, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to me. "Re-growing bones is a nasty business."

So was taking the Skele-Gro. It burned my mouth and throat as it went down, making me cough and splutter. Still tutting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Matron retreated, leaving Chris, Sian and Chrissie to help me gulp down some water.

"We won, though," said Chris, a smile breaking across his face. "That was some catch you made. Malty's face … she looked ready to kill!"

"I want to know how she fixed that Bludger!" said Sian darkly.

"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask her when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," I said, sinking back onto my pillow. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff …"

"If it's got bits of Snake-Eyes in it? You've got to be joking," said Chrissie.

The door of the hospital wing burst open at that very moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Lion-Heart team had arrived to see me.

"Unbelievable flying, Kiara," said Geri. "I've just seen Maria Spark yelling at Malty. Something about having the Snitch on top of her head and not noticing. Malty didn't seem too happy."

They had brought cakes, sweets and bottles of pumpkin juice; they gathered around my bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Matron came over, shouting, "This girl needs rest, she's got thirty bones to re-grow! Out! OUT!"

And I was left alone, with nothing to distract me from the stabbing pains in my limp arm.

0000

Hours and hours later, I woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain: my arm now felt full of large splinters. For a second, I thought it was that which had woken me. Then, with a thrill of horror, I realised that someone was sponging my forehead in the dark.

"Get off!" I said loudly, and then, _"Dokey!"_

The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at me through the darkness. A single tear was running down her long, pointed nose.

"Kiara Pride-Lander came back to school," she whispered miserably. "Dokey warned Kiara Pride-Lander. Ah Miss, why didn't you heed Dokey? Why didn't Kiara Pride-Lander go back home when she missed the submarines?"

I heaved myself up on my pillows and pushed Dokey's sponge away.

"What're you doing here?" I said. "And how did you know I missed the submarines?"

Dokey's lips trembled and I was seized with a sudden suspicion.

"It was _you_!" I said slowly. " _You_ stopped the barrier letting us through!"

"Indeed yes, Miss," said Dokey , nodding her head vigorously, ears flapping. "Dokey hid and watched Kiara Pride-Lander and sealed the gateway and Dokey had to burn her hands afterwards –" she showed me ten long, burned fingers, "but Dokey didn't care, Miss, for she thought Kiara Pride-Lander was safe, and never did Dokey dream that Kiara Pride-Lander would get to school another way!"

She was rocking backwards and forwards, shaking her ugly head.

"Dokey was so shocked when she heard Kiara Pride-Lander was back at Dragon Mort, she let her masters' dinner burn! Such a flogging she never had, Miss …"

I slumped back onto my pillows.

"You nearly got Chrissie and me expelled," I said fiercely. "You'd better clear off before my bones come back, Dokey, or I might strangle you!"

Dokey smiled weakly.

"Dokey is used to death threats, Miss. Dokey gets them five times a day at home."

She blew her nose on a corner of the top dirty towel she wore, looking so pathetic that I felt my anger ebb away in spite of myself.

"Why d'you wear those things, Dokey?" I asked curiously.

"These, Miss?" said Dokey, looking down at the two towels she was wearing. "'Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement, Miss. Dokey can only be freed if her masters present her with clothes, Miss. The family is careful not to pass Dokey even a sock, Miss, for then she would be free to leave their house for ever."

Dokey mopped her bulging eyes and said suddenly, "Kiara Pride-Lander _must_ go home! Dokey thought her Bludger would be enough to make –"

" _Your_ Bludger?" I said, anger rising once more. "What d'you mean, _your_ Bludger? _You_ made that Bludger try and _kill_ me?"

"Not _kill_ you, Miss, never _kill_ you!" said Dokey, shocked. "Dokey wants to save Kiara Pride-Lander's life! Better sent home grievously injured than, than remain here, Miss! Dokey only wanted Kiara Pride-Lander hurt enough to be sent home!"

"Oh, is that all?" I said angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why_ you wanted me sent home in pieces?"

"Ah, if Kiara Pride-Lander only knew!" Dokey groaned, more tears dripping onto her top ragged towel. "If she knew what she means to us, to the lowly, the _enslaved_ , us dregs of the magical world! Dokey remembers how it was when She Who Must Not Be Named was at the height of her powers, Miss! We house-elves were treated like vermin, Miss! Of course, Dokey is still treated like that, Miss," she admitted, wiping her face on the towel. "But mostly, Miss, life has improved for my kind since Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord and you triumphed over She Who Must Not Be Named. Kiara Pride-Lander survived, and the Scarlet Lady's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, Miss, and both Kiara Pride-Lander and Harry Potter shone like beacons of hope for those of us who thought the dark days would never end, Miss … And now, even at Dragon Mort, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dokey cannot let Kiara Pride-Lander stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Mysteries is open once more –"

Dokey froze, horror-struck, and then grabbed my water jug from my bedside table and cracked it over her own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, she crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, "Bad Dokey … very bad Dokey …"

"So there _is_ a Chamber of Mysteries?" I whispered. "And – did you say it's been opened _before_? _Tell_ me, Dokey!"

I seized the elf's bony wrist as Dokey's hand inched towards the water jug. "But – I'm not Bright-brained or a Muggle-born – how can I be in danger from the Chamber?"

"Ah, Miss, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dokey," stammered the elf, her eyes wide in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Kiara Pride-Lander must not be here when they happen. Go home, Kiara Pride-Lander. Go home. Kiara Pride-Lander must not meddle in this, Miss, 'tis too dangerous –"

"Who is it, Dokey?" I said, keeping a firm hold on Dokey's wrist to stop her hitting herself with the water jug again. "Who's opened it? Who was it last time?"

"Dokey can't, Miss, Dokey can't, Dokey mustn't tell!" squealed the elf. "Go home, Kiara Pride-Lander, go home!"

"I'm not going anywhere!" I said fiercely. "One of my best friends is Bright-brained, she'll be first in line if the Chamber really has been opened –"

"Kiara Pride-Lander risks her own life for her friends!" moaned Dokey, in a kind of miserable ecstasy. "So noble! So valiant! But she must save herself, she must, Kiara Pride-Lander must not –"

Dokey suddenly froze, her bat ears quivering. I heard it, too. There were footsteps coming down the passageway outside.

"Dokey must go!" breathed the elf, terrified; there was a loud _crack_ , and my fist was suddenly clenched on thin air. I slumped back on to my bed, my eyes on the dark doorway to the hospital wing as the footsteps drew nearer.

Next moment, I saw Crighton backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. She was carrying the end of what looked like a statue. And to my surprise, I saw that Sian was carrying the other end, followed by Professor Darbus. Together, they heaved it onto a bed. I wondered what Sian was doing there at the time, but we'll get to that later.

"Sian, get Matron," whispered Crighton, and Sian hurried past the end of my bed and out of sight. Darbus and Crighton were talking in muffled voices. I lay quite still, pretending to be asleep. I heard urgent voices, and then Sian swept back into view, followed closely by Matron, who was pulling a cardigan over her nightdress. I heard a sharp intake of breath.

"What happened?" Matron whispered to Crighton, bending over the statue.

"Another attack," said Crighton. "Sian found her on the stairs –"

"There was a bunch of grapes next to her," said Professor Darbus. "We think she was trying to sneak up here to visit Pride-Lander."

My stomach gave a horrible lurch. I slowly and carefully raised myself up a few inches so I could look at the statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face.

It was Colleen McCreevy. Her eyes were wide and her hands were stuck up in front of her, holding her camera.

"Petrified?" whispered Matron.

"Yes," said Sian. "But I shudder to think … if I hadn't been on the way to get hot chocolate for Ma, who knows what would have happened."

The four of them stared down at Colleen. Then Crighton leaned forward and prised the camera out of Colleen's rigid grip.

"You don't think she managed to get a picture of her attacker?" said Professor Darbus eagerly.

Crighton didn't answer. She prised open the back of the camera.

"Good gracious!" said Matron.

A jet of steam hissed out of the camera. I was only three beds away, but I caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic.

"Melted," said Matron wonderingly, "all melted …"

"What does this mean, Susan?" asked Professor Darbus urgently.

"It means," said Crighton, "that the Chamber of Mysteries is indeed open again."

Matron clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor Darbus and Sian stared at Crighton.

"But Susan … surely … _who_?"

"The question is not _who_ ," said Crighton, her eyes on Colleen. "The question is _how_ …"

And from what I could see of Professor Darbus' shadowy face, she didn't understand this any better than I did. The only person who seemed to understand was – as per usual – Sian. Well, at least she seemed to understand what was going on at the time to me, anyway. And finally, I started to build a clear of picture of where Sian had been disappearing off to.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **The Duelling Club**

 **KIARA**

I woke on Sunday morning to find the dormitory blazing with winter sunlight and my arm re-boned but very stiff. I sat up quickly and looked over at Colleen's bed, but it had been blocked from view by the high curtains I had changed behind yesterday. Seeing that I was awake, Matron came bustling over with a breakfast tray and then began bending and stretching my arm and fingers.

"All in order," she said, as I clumsily fed myself porridge left-handed. "When you've finished eating, you may leave."

I dressed as quickly as I could and hurried off to Lion-Heart Tower, desperate to tell Chris, Sian and Chrissie about Colleen and Dokey, but they weren't there. I left to look for them, wondering where they could have got to and feeling slightly hurt that they weren't interested in whether I had my bones back or not.

As I passed the library, Perdy strolled out of it, looking in far better spirits than the last time we had met.

"Oh, hello, Kiara," she said. "Excellent flying yesterday, really excellent! Lion-Heart has just taken the lead for the House Cup – you earned fifty points!"

"You haven't seen Chris, Sian and Chrissie anywhere, have you?" I said.

"No, I haven't," said Perdy, her smile fading. "I hope Sian and Chrissie are not in another _boy's toilet_ …"

I forced a laugh, watched Perdy out of sight and then headed straight for Old Moany's bathroom. I couldn't see why Chris, Sian and Chrissie would be in there again, but after making sure that neither Match nor any Prefects were around, I opened the door and found my three best friends sitting on the floor with their backs to me, talking around a cauldron that had a crackling from underneath, which I guessed was Sian's doing. Conjuring up portable, waterproof fires was a speciality of Sian's.

"It's me," I said behind them as I carefully closed the door behind me. Chris, Sian and Chrissie all jumped and spun round. When they saw me, the three of them stood up and smiled at me.

" _Kiara!"_ Sian said. "You gave us such a fright. Come to us – how's your arm?"

"Fine," I said, as Chris budged up a bit so that I could sit down next to Sian.

"We'd've come to meet you, but we decided to get started on the Polyjuice Potion," Chrissie explained. "We've agreed this is the best place to hide it."

I started to tell them about Colleen, but Sian interrupted. "We already know. Ma told me about what happened and I told Chris and Chrissie. That's why we decided to get going."

This perfectly good lie reminded me of the night before. I cleared my throat and said slowly, "So, Sian, you didn't see anything last night, then, I take it?"

"No," she said in denial. "I mean, why would I?"

"Well, it's just that I heard you in the hospital wing with your mother last night."

"You were _awake_ when I was there –?" Sian began, but then stopped herself as she realised, too late, that she had said too much.

Chris and Chrissie looked at Sian, surprised.

"So Sian," said Chrissie, "would you mind telling us what you've been doing for Ma these past few weeks?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's about time that we know, don't you think?" asked Chris.

Sian looked at each of us slowly for a few moments before she took a deep breath and said, "Oh, very well, I'll tell you. Besides, Ma won't mind, for she said that it would be OK for me to tell you if you got suspicious about where I was going or knew what I was doing. I've been working for Ma for the past few weeks, trying to figure out what it is that's attacking the students."

"So _that's_ where you've been disappearing off to," said Chrissie in sudden realisation.

"Indeed I have."

"So have you found anything out yet?" I asked her. "I mean, do you know what's been attacking them?"

"No, I don't," Sian said. "The only thing Ma told me was that something terrible happened to a student here, and she doesn't want something like that terrible event happening again, not just for the rest of the schools' sake, but for the lives of her children, too."

"Wait a minute," piped up Chris suddenly. "What do you mean by _again_ , exactly?"

Sian and I looked at each other and shared a non-verbal communication – basically, it's talking with our minds, like they sometimes do in _How I Met Your Mother_ – and we both agreed that Chris and Chrissie should know. So Sian and I told them what we had learnt from the night before, and Sian added a bit more important information for us, too, for that matter.

"So, Ma was a teacher here the last time the Chamber was opened?" Chrissie said.

"Yes, but she didn't – and still doesn't – know what attacked the students, or who opened the Chamber. Sorry guys." Turns out that Crighton had an inkling as to who opened the Chamber, but we'll get to that later.

"Can you tell us what evidence you've collected, then?" I asked her.

"Sorry, but I can't," Sian said apologetically. "You see, Ma said to me that the evidence I collected stays classified between myself and her."

"Anyway, the sooner we get a confession out of Malty, the better," said Chrissie. "D'you know what I think? She was in such a foul mood after the Quidditch match, she took it out on Colleen. And besides, one of Malty's ancestors must have opened the Chamber of Mysteries when they were at school here, and they must have passed the key from mother to daughter for decades now, until dear old Dani got hold of it. It's obvious. I wish Dokey'd told you what kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know how come nobody's noticed it sneaking round the school."

"Maybe it can make itself invisible," said Sian, prodding leeches to the bottom of the cauldron. "Or maybe it can disguise itself – pretend to be a suit of armour or something. I've read about Chameleon Ghouls …"

"You read too much, Sian," said Chrissie, pouring dead lacewings on top of the leeches. She crumpled up the empty lacewing bag and looked at me.

"So Dokey stopped us getting on the submarines and broke your arm …" she shook her head. "You know what, Kiara? If she doesn't stop trying to save your life she's going to kill you."

0000

The news that Colleen McCreevy had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumour and suspicion. The first-years were now moving in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

Kestrel Dawson, who sat next to Colleen in Charms, was distraught, but I felt that Tanya and Geri were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking it in turns to cover themselves with bits of fur or boils and jump out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Beth told Sian, and Sian, who was apoplectic with rage, told them she was going to write to Mr Dawson and tell Crighton that Kestrel was having nightmares.

Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets and other protective enchantments were sweeping the school. Nikita Bore bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal and a rotting newt tail before the other Lion-Heart girls, including myself, pointed out that she was in no danger. She told us that she wasn't dim or a Muggle-born, and therefore was unlikely to be attacked.

"They went for Match first," Nikita said, her round face fearful, "and everyone knows I'm almost a smart alec and almost a Squib."

In the first week of December, a received a letter from Grandmother Sarabi. It went:

 _My Dearest Kiara,_

 _I am sorry you had to see a cat get Petrified by the monster and I am sorry I didn't tell you about the Chamber of Mysteries. To be honest with you, I had completely forgotten about it until you mentioned it. It is odd that you hear a voice no one else can hear, though; but unless it happens again you mustn't look too deeply into this, for I don't want you getting into danger or trouble, unless someone says so._

 _The caretaker being a Squib is very unusual, because they are so rare, so I'm not going to go too deeply into that. as for your friend Sian being called the "S" word by Danielle Malty, well that's just wrong. We are who we are, and should be proud of that, and I'm sure you'll do fine in your Quidditch match. Oh, and nice one for getting invited to Madam Nicola's Deathday party, by the way._

 _Keep me posted on what's been going on at the school._

 _Got to go. Sarafina sends you her love as always._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Grandmother Sarabi_

I sent her a letter back, which reads:

 _Dear Grandmother Sarabi,_

 _We did win our match against Snake-Eyes, and I got a rogue Bludger set on me. I'll tell you about that in a few moments. Anyhoo, I got my arm broken by it, and Gold tried to mend my arm, but ended up removing all the bones out of it. I had to be given some Skele-Gro to help my bones grow back again. Oh, and if you want to blame anyone for the barrier to the Sub-House closing on me and Chrissie, you can blame Dokey the house-elf; for not only did she close the barrier she also set that rogue Bludger on me, too. And Colleen McCreevy, a Lion-Heart first-year got attacked by the monster the night we won the match and Sian is trying to figure out the mystery on her mother's orders. That's pretty much what's been going on here of late._

 _Give my love to Grandmother Sarafina._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Kiara_

 _P.S. Why has it taken you so long to write to me? Surely you have a lot of time on your hands, don't you?_

Getting back to the story now. Along with the letter from my grandmother, Professor Darbus came round the first week of December as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I signed her list; we had heard that Malty was staying, which struck us as very suspicious. The holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion to try and worm a confession out of Malty.

Unfortunately though, the potion was only half-finished. We still needed the Bicorn horn and the Boomslang skin, and the only place we were going to get those from was Triphorm's private stores. I privately felt I'd rather face Snake-Eyes legendary monster than have Triphorm catch me robbing her office.

"What we need," said Sian briskly, as Thursday afternoon's double Potions lesson drew nearer, "is a diversion. Then two of us can sneak into Triphorm's office and take what we need."

Chrissie and I looked at her nervously.

"I think Chris and I should do the stealing," Sian continued, in a very matter-of-fact tone.

"What – us?" said Chris, in a shocked voice.

" _Of course_ us, Rickers," Sian snapped. "No one else is going to do it, are they? And the stuff's not going to steal itself. Besides, Kiara and Chrissie will be expelled if they get in any more trouble, and you and me, Rickers, both have clean records. So, Kiara, all you need to do is cause enough mayhem to keep Triphorm busy for five minutes or so …"

I smiled feebly. Deliberately causing mayhem in Triphorm's Potions class was about as safe as poking a sleeping dragon in the eye.

Potions took place in one of the large dungeons. Thursday afternoon's lesson proceeded in the usual way. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients. Triphorm prowled through the fumes, making waspish remarks about the Lion-Hearts' work whilst the Snake-Eyes sniggered appreciatively. Dani Malty, who was Triphorm's favourite student, kept flicking puffer-fish eyes at Chrissie and I, who knew that if we retaliated we would get detention faster than you could say "unfair".

My Swelling Solution was far too runny, but I had my mind on more important things. I was watching for Sian's signal and hardly listened as Triphorm paused to sneer at my watery potion. When Triphorm turned and walked off to bully Nikita, Sian caught my eye and winked.

I ducked swiftly down behind my cauldron, pulled one of Geri's Filibuster Fireworks out of my pocket and gave it a quick prod with my wand. The firework began to fizz and sputter. Knowing that I had only seconds, I straightened up, took aim and lobbed it in the air; it landed right on target in Gabber's cauldron.

Gabber's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Malty and Rae-Bradley both got a face full and their noses began to swell like balloons; Gabber blundered around, her hands over her eyes, which had expanded to the size of dinner plates, while Triphorm was trying to restore calm and find out what happened. Through the confusion, I saw Chris and Sian slip quietly out of the door.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Triphorm roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draught. When I find out who did this …"

I tried not to laugh as I saw Malty and Rae-Bradley hurry forward, their heads drooping with the weight of their noses, which were like small melons. As half the class lumbered up to Triphorm's desk, some weighed down with arms like clubs, others unable to talk through gigantic puffed-up lips, I saw Chris and Sian slide back into the dungeon, the fronts of their uniforms bulging.

When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Triphorm swept over to Gabber's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush.

"If _I_ ever find out who threw this," Triphorm whispered, "Ishall _make sure_ that person is expelled."

I arranged my face into what I hoped was a puzzled expression. Triphorm was looking right at me, and when the bell rang ten minutes later it could not have been more welcome.

"She knew it was me," I told Chris, Sian and Chrissie as we hurried back to Old Moany's bathroom. "I could tell."

Sian threw the new ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly.

"It'll be ready in a fortnight," she said happily.

"Triphorm can't prove it was you," said Chris reassuringly to me. "What can she do?"

"Knowing Triphorm, something foul," I said, as the potion frothed and bubbled.

0000

A week later, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I were walking across the Entrance Hall when we saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Zara Finn and Dena Wright beckoned us over.

"They're starting a Duelling Club!" said Zara. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind duelling lessons, they might come in handy one of these days …"

"What, you reckon Snake-Eyes' monster can duel?" said Chrissie, but she too read the sign with interest.

"Could be useful for later life," she said to Chris, Sian and I as we went into dinner. "Shall we go?"

Chris, Sian and I were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening we hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles lit overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Sian, as we edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Winds was a duelling champion when she was young, maybe it'll be her."

"As long as it's not –" I began, but I ended on a groan: Giselle Gold was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Triphorm, wearing her usual red.

Gold waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!

"Now, Professor Crighton has granted me permission to start this little Duelling Club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions – for more details, see my published works.

"Let me introduce my assistant – Professor Triphorm," said Gold, flashing a wide smile. "She tells me she knows a tiny little bit about duelling herself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want you youngsters to worry – you'll still have your Potions mistress when I'm through with her, never fear!"

"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Chrissie muttered in my ear.

Triphorm's upper lip was curling. I wondered why Gold was still smiling; if Triphorm had been looking at _me_ like that I'd have been running as fast as I could in the opposite direction.

Gold and Triphorm turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Gold did, with much twirling of her hands, whereas Triphorm jerked her head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you can see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Gold told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," I murmured, watching Triphorm baring her teeth.

"One – two – three –"

Both of them swung their arms up and over their shoulders. Triphorm cried: _"Expelliarmus!"_ There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Gold was blasted off her feet: she flew backwards off the stage, smashed into the wall and slide down it to sprawl on the floor.

Malty and some of the other Snake-Eyes cheered. Chris was trying to look over people's heads to see what was going on. "D'you think she's all right?" he moaned, as he dodged here and there, trying to get a good look.

"Who cares?" said Sian, Chrissie and I together. Me and Chrissie looked at Sian in surprise, but then we remembered that Sian thought that Gold was a useless teacher just as much as we did, so we shrugged our shoulders and moved past it.

Gold was getting unsteadily to her feet. Her hat had fallen off and her wavy hair was on end.

"Well, there you have it!" she said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm – as you see, I've lost my wand – ah, thank you, Mr Brown. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Triphorm, but if you don't mind me saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to disarm you it would have been only too easy. However, I feel it would be instructive to let them see …"

Triphorm was looking murderous. Possibly Gold had noticed because she said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Triphorm, if you'd like to help me …"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Gold teamed Nikita with Justine Cole, but Triphorm reached me and Chrissie first.

"Time to split up the _dream team_ , I think," she sneered. "Second Dawson, you can partner Finn. Rickers, Bull. Pride-Lander –"

I moved automatically towards Sian.

"I don't think so," said Triphorm, smiling coldly. "Miss Malty, come here. Let's see what you make of the famous Pride-Lander. And you, eldest Dawson girl – you can partner Miss Rae-Bradley."

Malty and Rae-Bradley both strutted over, smirking. Behind them walked a boy who reminded me of a picture I'd seen in _Hanging with Hags_. He was large and square and his heavy jaw jutted aggressively. Chris gave him a weak smile which he did not return. And Sian and Rae-Bradley just gave each other menacing glares.

"Face your partners," called Gold, back on the platform, "and bow!"

Malty and I barely inclined our heads, not taking our eyes off each other.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Gold. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm you opponent – _only_ to disarm them – we don't want any accidents. One … two … three …"

I swung my wand over my shoulder, but Malty had already started on "two": her spell hit me so hard I felt as though I'd been hit over the head with a sauce pan. I stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working, and wasting no more time, I pointed my wand straight at Malty and shouted, _"Rictusempra!"_

A jet of silver light hit Malty in the stomach and she doubled up, wheezing.

" _I said disarm only!"_ Gold shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malty sank to her knees; I had hit her with a Tickling Charm, and she could barely move for laughs. I hung back, with a vague feeling it would be unsporting to duel with Malty while she was on the floor, but this was a mistake. Gasping for breath, Malty pointed her wand at my knees, choked, _"Tarantellagra!"_ and next second my legs had begun to do a jerk out of my control in a kind of quickstep.

"Stop! Stop!" screamed Gold, but Triphorm took charge.

" _Finite Incantartum!"_ she shouted; my feet stopped dancing, Malty stopped laughing and we were able to look up.

A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Nikita and Justine were lying on the floor, panting; Chrissie was holding up an ash-faced Zara, apologising for whatever her broken wand had done; Sian was standing smugly over Rae-Bradley, who was on the floor, her hair on end, her eyes were wide and she was slowly getting to her feet, jerking all over, but Chris and Muller Bull weren't moving; Muller had Chris in a headlock and Chris was whimpering in pain. Both their wands were lying on the floor.

"Dear, dear," said Gold, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you get, Mr Mann… careful there, Howard … pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second, Miss Howard.

"I think I'd better teach you how to _block_ unfriendly spells," said Gold, standing flustered in the middle of the Hall. She glanced at Triphorm, whose brown eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair – Bore and Cole, how about you?"

"A bad idea, Professor Gold," said Triphorm, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Bore causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Cole to the hospital wing in a match box." Nikita's pink face went pinker. "How about Malty and Pride-Lander?" said Triphorm with a twisted smile.

"Excellent idea!" said Gold, gesturing to me and Malty into the middle of the Hall as the crowd backed away to give us room.

"Now, Kiara," said Gold, "when Danielle points her wand at you, you do _this_."

She raised her own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action and dropped it. Triphorm smirked as Gold quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops – my wand is a little over-excited."

Triphorm moved closer to Malty, bent down and whispered something in her ear. Malty smiled too. I looked nervously up at Professor Gold and said, "Professor Gold, could you show me how to do that blocking thing again?"

"Scared?" said Malty, so that Gold couldn't hear her.

"You wish," I said out of the corner of my mouth.

Gold clapped me merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Kiara!"

"What, drop my wand?"

But Gold wasn't listening.

"Three – two – one – go!" she shouted.

Malty raised her wand quickly and bellowed, _"Serpentsortia!"_

The end of her wand exploded. I watched, aghast, as a king cobra shot out of the wand, fell heavily to the floor between us and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

"Don't move, Pride-Lander," said Triphorm lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of me standing motionless, eye to eye with the snake. "I'll get rid of it …"

"Allow me!" said Gold. She brandished her wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet in the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight towards Justine Cole and raised itself again, fangs poised, ready to strike.

I wasn't sure what made me do it. As a matter of fact, I wasn't even aware of doing it at all. All I knew was that my legs were carrying me forward as though I was on castors and that I shouted stupidly at the snake, "Leave her!" And miraculously – inexplicably – the snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick black pipe, its eyes now on me. I felt the fear drain out of me. I knew the snake wouldn't attack anyone now, though how I knew it, I couldn't have explained (well, at that moment anyway). I was going to find out how I could a few minutes later, though.

I looked up at Justine, grinning, expecting to see Justine looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful – but certainly not angry and scared.

" _What do you think you're playing at?"_ she shouted, and before I could say anything, Justine had turned and stormed out of the Hall.

Triphorm stepped forward, waved her wand and the snake vanished in a small puff of red smoke. Triphorm, too, was looking at me in an unexpected way: it was a shrewd and calculating look, and I didn't like it one bit. I was also dimly aware of an ominous amount of muttering all around the walls. Then I felt a tugging on the back of my collar.

"Come on," said Chrissie's voice in my ear. "Move – come _on_ …"

Chrissie steered me out of the Hall, Chris and Sian hurrying alongside us. As we went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as though they were frightened of catching something. At that precise moment, I didn't know what was going on, and Chris, Sian nor Chrissie explained anything, until they had dragged me all the way up to the empty Lion-Heart common room. Then Chrissie pushed me into an armchair and said, "You're a Parshydamouth. _Why_ didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a what?" I said.

"A _Parshydamouth_!" said Chrissie. "Have you heard of Parseltongue?"

"No."

"Well, Parseltongue is a gift someone has to talk to snakes, but Parshydamouths can talk to other reptiles, too. Dad bought home some tapes from the Ministry once, and we know the difference between the two, because Parshydamouths often tend to speak a little more guttery than Parselmouths do."

"Oh, I know I can speak – what was it you said – _Parseltongue_ ," I said. "I mean, that's only the second time I've done it. I did talk to a boa constrictor and set it on my cousin Carol at the zoo once – long story – but it was telling me it hadn't seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to. And every reptile in the reptile house was watching me, transfixed. That was before I was eleven, though …"

"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Chris repeated faintly.

"And all the reptiles were watching you transfixed?" Chrissie said, shocked.

"So?" I said. "I bet loads of people here can do it."

"No, they can't," said Chrissie. "It's not a very common gift. Kiara, this is bad."

"What's bad?" I said, starting to feel irritated. "What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if I hadn't told that snake not to Attack Justine –"

"Oh, _that's_ what you said to it?"

"What d'you mean? You were there … you heard me."

"We heard you speak Parshydamouth," said Chris, "reptilian language. You could have been saying anything. No wonder Justine panicked, for it sounded as though you were egging the snake on or something. It was creepy, you know."

I gaped at him.

"I spoke a different language? But – I didn't realise – how can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?"

Chrissie shook her head. She, Sian and Chris were looking as though someone had died. I couldn't see what was so terrible."

"D'you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a dirty great snake biting Justine's head off?" I said. "What does it matter if _how_ I did it as long as Justine doesn't have to join the Headless Games?"

"It matters," said Sian, speaking in a hushed voice, "because speaking to snakes and other reptiles was what Selena Snake-Eyes was most famous for, but she was more talented with speaking to snakes; which is precisely why the symbol of Snake-Eyes is a serpent."

My mouth fell open.

"Exactly," said Chris. "And now the whole school's going to think you're her great-great-great-great-granddaughter or something …"

"But I'm not," I said, with a panic that I couldn't quite explain.

"You'll find that hard to prove," said Sian. "She lived over a thousand years ago; I mean, for all we know, you could well be."

0000

I remember lying awake for hours that night. Through a gap in the hangings round my four-poster I watched snow starting to drift past the tower window, and I wondered.

 _Could_ I be a descendent of Selena Snake-Eyes? I mean, at that moment in my life, I hardly knew anything about my family history, for my grandmothers hadn't really told me anything about my other relatives.

Quietly, I tried to say something in Parshydamouth. The words wouldn't come. It seemed that I had to be face to face with a snake or any other reptile in order to do it.

"But I'm in _Lion-Heart_ ," I thought. "The lion-head wouldn't have put me in here if I had Snake-Eyes blood …"

" _Ah,"_ said a nasty little voice in my brain, "but the Snake-Head _wanted_ to put you in Snake-Eyes, don't you remember?"

I turned over. I thought that I would see Justine the next day and I'd explain that I'd been calling the snake off, not egging it on, which (I thought angrily as I pummelled my pillow) any fool should realise. And I say _thought_ , because the weather and some other things had other ideas …

0000

By next morning however, the snow that had began the night before had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of term had been cancelled: Spud wanted to fit socks and scarves on the mandrakes, a tricky operation he would entrust to no one else, now that it was so important for the mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Mrs Robbs and Colleen McCreevy.

I fretted this time by the fire in the Lion-Heart common room, whilst Chris, Sian and Chrissie took it in turns to play wizard chess against each other in their lesson off.

"For heaven's sake, Kiara," said Sian, exasperated, as one of Chris' bishops wrestled her knight off his horse and dragged him off the board. "Go and _find_ Justine if it's so important to you."

So I got up and left through the portrait hole, wondering where Justine might be.

The castle was darker than it usually was in the daytime, because of the thick, swirling grey snow at every window. Shivering, I walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching snatches of what was going on within. Professor Darbus was shouting at someone, who, by the sound of it, had turned her friend into a badger. Resisting the urge to take a look, I walked on by, thinking that Justine might be using her free time to catch up on some work, so I decided to check the library first.

A group of Badger-Stripes who should have been in Herbology were indeed sitting in the back of the library, but they didn't seem to be working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, I could see that their heads were close together and they were having what looked like an absorbing conversation. I couldn't see whether Justine was among them. I was walking towards them when something of what they were saying met my ears, so I paused to listen, hidden in the Invisibility Section.

"So anyway," a stout girl was saying, "I told Justine to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Pride-Lander's marked her down as her next victim, it's best if she keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justine's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since she told Pride-Lander she was a Muggle-born, never mind that she's also a Bright-brain. Justine actually _told_ her she'd been down for Meols Cop. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Snake-Eyes' heir on the loose, is it?"

"You definitely think it _is_ Pride-Lander then, Emily?" said a boy with blonde hair anxiously.

"Henry," said the girl sternly, "she's a Parshydamouth. Everyone knows that talking to mainly snakes is the mark of a Dark witch or wizard, never mind any other reptiles. Have you ever met a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Snake-Eyes herself reptilian-tongue."

"But what about the stuff with Harry Potter?" said Henry. "I mean, he was a Parselmouth, and he's a good guy. Besides, he talked to snakes."

"Yeah, but he's a one off though, isn't he?" snapped Emily.

There was some muttering at this, and Emily went on, "Remember what was written on the wall? _Enemies of the Heir Beware._ Pride-Lander had some sort of run-in with Match. Next thing we know, Match's cat was attacked. That first-year, McCreevy, was annoying Pride-Lander at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of her while she was lying in the mud. Next thing we know, McCreevy's been attacked."

"She always seems so nice, though," said Henry uncertainly, "and, well, she is the one who made She You Know disappear. She can't be _all_ _bad_ , can she?"

Emily lowered her voice mysteriously, I heard the Badger-Stripes move closer and I edged nearer so that I could catch Emily's words.

"No one knows how she survived that attack by She You Know. I mean to say, she was only a baby when it happened. She could have been blasted to smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark witch could have survived a curse like that." She dropped her voice until it was barely more than a whisper and said, " _That's_ probably why She You Know wanted to kill her in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Lady _competing_ with her. I wonder what other powers Pride-Lander's been hiding?"

That was the last straw; I couldn't take any more of that. Clearing my throat loudly, I stepped out from behind the bookshelves. If I hadn't been feeling so angry, I would have found the sight that greeted me funny; every one of the Badger-Stripes looked as though they had been Petrified by the sight of me, and the colour was draining from Emily's face.

"Hello," I said. "I'm looking for Justine Cole."

The Badger-Stripes' worst fears had been confirmed. They all looked at Emily.

" _What_ do you want with her?" said Emily in a quavering voice.

"I wanted to tell her what really happened at the Duelling Club," I said.

Emily bit her white lips and then, taking a deep breath, said, "We were all there when it happened."

"Then you noticed that, after I spoke to it, the snake backed off?" I said.

"All I saw," said Emily stubbornly, though she was trembling as she spoke, "was you speaking Parshydamouth and chasing the snake towards Justine."

"I didn't chase it at her!" I said, my voice shaking with anger. "It didn't even _touch_ her!"

"It was a very near miss," said Emily. "And in case you're getting any ideas," she added hastily, "I might tell you that you can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks who are half-brains and pure-bloods, so –"

"I don't care about what sort of brain you've got, _or_ your blood status!" I said fiercely. "Why would I want to attack Bright-brains and Muggle-borns?"

"I've heard you hate those Muggle relatives of yours that you know," said Emily swiftly.

"It's not possible to not know the Smiths and not hate them," I said. "I'd like to see you try."

I turned on my heel and walked out of the library, earning myself a reproaching look from Mr Pincer, who was polishing the cover of a large spell book.

I blundered up the corridor, barely noticing where I was going I was in such a fury. The result was that I walked into something very large and solid, which knocked me backwards onto the floor.

"Oh, hullo, Mina," I said, looking up.

Mina's face was entirely hidden by a woolly, snow-covered balaclava, but it couldn't possibly be anyone else, as she filled most of the corridor in her moleskin overcoat. A dead rooster was hanging from one of her massive gloved hands.

"All righ', Kiara?" she said, pulling up the balaclava so she could speak. "Why aren't yeh in class?"

"Cancelled," I said, getting up. "What're you doing in here?"

"Second one killed this term," she explained. "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the headmistress's permission ter put a charm round the hen-coop."

She peered at me from under her thin, snow-flecked eyebrows.

"Yeh sure yeh're all righ'? Yeh look all hot and bothered."

I couldn't bring myself to repeat what Emily and the rest of the Badger-Stripes had been saying about me.

"It's nothing," I said. "I'd better get going, Mina; it's Transfiguration next and I've got to pick up my books."

I walked off, my mind full of what Emily had said about me.

" _Justine's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since she told Pride-Lander she was a Muggle-born, never mind that she's also a Bright-brain …"_

I stamped up the stairs and turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark; the torches had been extinguished by a strong icy draught which was blowing through a loose window pane. I was halfway down the passage when I tripped head-long over something lying on the floor.

I turned to squint at what I'd fallen over, and felt as though my stomach had dissolved.

Justine Cole was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on her face, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all; next to her was another figure, the strangest sight that I had ever seen – well, at that point, anyway, for in this story, more strange stuff is still left to come.

It was Nearly Headless Nicola, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. Her head was half off and her face wore an expression of shock identical to Justine's.

I got to my feet, my breathing fast and shallow, my heart doing a kind of drum-roll against my ribs. I looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.

I could run, and no one would ever known I had been there. But I couldn't just leave them lying there … I had to get help. Would anyone believe I hadn't had anything to do with this?

As I stood there, panicking, a door right next to me opened with a bang. Weeves the poltergeist came shooting out.

"Why it's Pridey wee Pride-Lander!" cackled Weeves, as she shot past me. "What's Pride-Lander up to? Why's Pride-Lander lurking –"

Weeves stopped halfway through a mid-air somersault. Upside down, she spotted Justine and Nearly Headless Nicola. She flipped the right way up, filled her lungs and before I could stop her, screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

Crash – crash – crash: door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Justine was in danger of being squashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nicola. I found myself pinned against the wall as the teachers shouted for quiet. Professor Darbus came running, followed by her own class, one of whom still had black and white striped hair. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Emily the Badger-Stripe arrived, panting, on the scene.

" _Caught in the act!"_ Emily yelled, her face stark white, pointing her finger directly at me.

"That will do, Miss Mac!" said Professor Darbus sharply.

Weeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Weeves loved chaos. As the teachers bent over Justine and Nearly Headless Nicola, examining them, Weeves broke into song:

" _Oh Prider, you rotter, oh what have you done?_

 _You're killing off students, you think its good fun –"_

"That's enough, Weeves!" barked Professor Darbus, and Weeves zoomed away backwards, her tongue out at me.

Justine was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Winds and Professor Planetary of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nicola. In the end, Professor Darbus conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Emily with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nicola up the stairs. This Emily did, fanning Nicola along like a silent hovercraft. This left me and Professor Darbus alone together.

"This way, Pride-Lander," she said.

"Professor," I said at once, "I swear I didn't –"

"This is out of my hands, Pride-Lander," said Professor Darbus curtly.

We marched in silence round a corner and saw Sian with our backs to us, walking along with her arms crossed. I knew it was Sian because of her hair, just so you know.

"Dawson!" barked Professor Darbus. "What are you doing here?"

Sian did a small yell, jumped and spun round at the same time and almost dropped whatever she was holding. When she saw who it was, she put a hand over her heart and took a few deep, steadying breaths to calm herself.

As we walked up to her, we heard her muttering, "I so _hate it_ when people do that! It's all right when I can see you in front of me, but when you're behind me, don't shout!" She sighed and said to Professor Darbus, "You frightened the life out of me, ma'am!"

"I'm sorry, Dawson," she said.

"That's quite all right, ma'am," Sian said. Then she spotted me and said, confused, "Kiara? What are you doing here?"

"She's actually on her way to visit your mother," said Professor Darbus. "And I should tell you that there has been a _double_ attack."

" _Double?"_ said Sian shocked. "On who exactly?"

"Justine Cole and Madam Nicola."

"Madam Nicola?" Sian asked confusedly. Professor Darbus nodded and Sian went on to say, "But … I don't understand … how can something that's alive attack the spirit of what was once a living person? I mean, it makes no sense …"

"I know," said Professor Darbus. She looked at the file that Sian was holding and asked her, "What's that you've got there, Miss Dawson."

Sian looked down at the file she was holding, then looked back up at Professor Darbus and said, "Oh, this is just evidence for Ma. I got a message from her just now saying I should meet her in her office now. And seeing as Kiara's going there, I'll take her off your hands, and I'll also look into the double attack after I'm done with Mother, of that's all right with you, Miss D?"

"Certainly. I will leave that with you, then." And with that, Miss D turned on her heel and left me with Sian.

I turned to her and said, "You don't believe I did this, do you, Sian?"

Sian scrutinized me carefully for a few moments, before she said, "Kiara, I've known you for a year now, and in that short time, I know that you would never want to hurt or attack anyone. Besides, I know you're not that type of person."

I smiled in appreciation at this, and then Sian said, "You needn't think of being worried, Kiara. Ma's usually happy to see us when it's a good day. Come on. You'll like where we're going, for this is the most spectacular office you will ever see, trust me. Right this way." And she led me down the corridor to where an elevator was stationed, which was made of just glass. Sian took two tokens out of a pocket of her robes and placed them in the slot. Then the door slid open to admit us, and just as it closed, Sian said, "Two to take to the Head's office, please." The door slid closed and hooks that you could hold that were attached to metal ropes came down from the ceiling of the elevator. "You might want to grab on to one of those," said Sian to me, as she looked straight ahead of her without grabbing one of them. I didn't understand what she meant by this, but next second, I did.

For the elevator shot off like a rocket round the school, zooming around every corner so fast that everything that went past us was blurred. I shut my eyes tight, grabbed on to a hook with both hands and tried not to scream. A few seconds later, we seemed to slow down. Sian tapped me on my shoulder and said, "Kiara … open your eyes …"

I opened them slowly and then my eyes went wide. "Wow," I breathed as I looked above and below me, for the view was spectacular; we were flying high above the school and the students who were walking below us looked like ants, we were that high up. The sun beams through the clouds and shining on the river looked like something that was painted in a dream or something. Sian took out her camera and started to record the sun, and I could see why; for a view this good had to be recorded and watched over and over again in order to be believed. And as we flew, even though I was full of dread at what was yet to come, I couldn't help but feel amazed. Well, who wouldn't be?

As I was taking in the wonder and beauty of the natural world, I then noticed a dark shadow coming across us which turned out to be a brick wall. The wondrous look on my face soon turned to shock-horror as I thought we were going to crash, but Sian reassured me by saying that we had no need to worry, for the glass could travel to walls, like it had done when we got out of the school. I relaxed as we went through the wall, for it didn't hurt; it was kind of like we were travelling through a waterfall, without getting wet, that is. The elevator stopped as we reached the door to the office. The door slid open and we got out. As the elevator sped off out the wall, I noticed stairs leading down behind me from the door.

"Sian, why did we have to take the elevator if there are stairs here?" I asked her.

She replied, "It's because Ma wants people to arrive at her office in a very stylish manner, for my mother's stylish herself, you see."

As I looked at the door that had a phoenix knocker on it, I knew where we were; for this was where Crighton lived.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **The Polyjuice Potion**

 **KIARA**

Sian moved towards the door and rapped on it. It opened slowly and we entered. Sian closed the door and pulled her phone out of her pocket as her text tone went off. She looked at it and told me that her mother would be with us in a few minutes, because she had some other stuff to deal with. I nodded my head at this, and then started to look around the office.

I breathed another "Wow!" when I looked, for Sian was right, her mother's office was indeed spectacular. Out of all the offices I had visited that year, Crighton's was by far the most interesting. If I hadn't been so scared out of my wits that I was about to be thrown out at that moment, I would have been very pleased to have a look around it.

It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and admitting little puffs of smoke. Most of the walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was an enormous claw-footed desk which was Sian was leaning against, smiling at me, and, on a shelf behind it, an big, old chest, embroidered with gold around the edges which was peeling off, and was divided into four sections; you could tell because on the top were the four main colours of each house: red, blue, yellow and green, and I figured that this had to be the Sorting Chest where the Sorting Heads were.

I came back to this later, but I was fascinated by a wall beside the Headmistress' desk which was plastered in old pictures and what looked like old newspaper clippings, most of them included The Girl Who Saves the World, although I didn't understand why, until the Great Battle of Dragon Mort. I walked over to it and studied it carefully.

Sian came up to me and, still smiling, asked, "Well, what do you think of my mother's office, then?"

"It's beautiful, Sian," I said, still looking at the wall.

"I knew you'd like it."

I nodded, still staring at a picture that intrigued me; it was a picture that was many years old, – I could tell because the paper had yellowed with age – which was not covered up by any of the other drawings that her siblings must have done, and it must have been drawn when they were very young, for it was a very shabby drawing of a little girl sitting on a bench, with a vase of flowers sitting on a table beside her. Sian saw where I was looking and gave a soft sigh. When I turned to her I saw that she was embarrassed, for her head was bowed down and I could see spots of pink on her cheeks.

"What is it?" I asked her, confused.

Sian slowly lifted up her head, looked at me for a few moments and said, "I was the one who sent Ma that drawing. It was the first one that was ever sent to her, and therefore to Ma it's the most special."

"Then why are you so embarrassed about it?"

Sian was silent for a few moments before she replied, "I'm embarassed, Kiara, because I was six when I drew that and Max, my youngest brother, told me that it looked like a pig riding a donkey."

"He told you that?" I said, surprised.

"Right to my face."

"That's awful, never mind rude," I said.

"I know. Anyhoo, when you're at that age you don't really care about anything, and even though I had been through a bit, young as I was – don't ask me what now, Kiara; I don't want to go into it – I got very upset with him and got into a bit of trouble by what I did to him."

"What, _you_ of all people got in _trouble_?" I said, shocked, for that's not Sian at all.

Sian chuckled and said, "Yes, I know. Little Miss Goody-Goody Two-Shoes got in trouble. It's amazing what happens in this world, isn't it?"

I gave a small laugh at this, and then said, "So, what exactly did you do to him that got you in trouble, then?"

Sian looked confused for a moment with thinking hard, and said, "You know, I vaguely remember, but I do recall it had something with me chasing him and something to do with him up a tree tied to it, but apart from that, I can't remember a thing."

We both laughed at this before I said, "I still can't believe that you, Sian Zoe Katrina Dawson, got in trouble!"

"I know, and – hang on a minute," she paused, looking at me strangely, "how do you know my full name? I can't remember ever telling you that before!"

"Oh, Chrissie told me when you were in your training room one day," I said. Sian looked at me questioningly for a few moments, shrugged her shoulders as if to say, "All right, then," and then she moved back to the desk. As I watched her, my eyes fell back on the chest.

"Hey, Sian?"

Sian popped up her head as she picked up the file that she placed on it when she was leaning against it, and said, "Yes?"

"Is that chest behind you mother's desk where the Sorting Heads are kept for the rest of the year?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I just want to see whether the Snake-Head put me in the right house," I said.

"All right, then," said Sian, shrugging, as she pulled out a small blue notebook and a black pen out of her Evidence File, and started to write.

I sighed and walked around the desk to where the chest was. I looked at the green slot and saw a silver snake head on it. I clicked this and the Snake-Head shot out, hovering just above its resting place, and looking straight at me with those glittering, silver eyes.

"Isss there a bee in your bonnet, Kiara Pride-Lander?" it asked.

"Er – yes," I muttered. "Sorry to bother you – I wanted to ask –"

"You've been wondering whether we put you in the right housssseeee," the Snake-Head hissed. "Yesssss … you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said to the Lion-Head lasssst year –" my heart leapt "– you would have done well in Ssssnake-Eyessss."

My stomach plummeted. "You're wrong," I said to it. The Head said nothing and seemed to slither back inside the chest. When it was fully in there, I slammed the lid shut, but I was sure I could hear a faint hissing laughter that came after it, which made me feel slightly sick. I turned to Sian, who was looking at me with pity.

"Don't worry," she said, before I could say anything, "I won't tell anyone about what just happened."

"Thanks, S.D.," I said to her. We both gave each other a small smile, then she turned back to her notebook and I looked back at the chest. I couldn't be sure, but when I looked at the Lion-Head sector of the chest, I could have sworn that it glowed a bit brighter. I walked away, looking at it in wonderment. As I did so, a strange, gagging sound behind me made me wheel round.

Sian and I weren't alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird which resembled a half-plucked turkey. I stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. I thought it looked ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as I watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.

I was just thinking that all I needed was for Crighton's pet bird to die while I was alone with Sian in her mother's office with it, when the bird burst into flames.

I yelled in shock and backed away a few paces. I looked feverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere, but couldn't see one. The bird, meanwhile, had become a fireball; it gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smouldering pile of ash on the floor.

"Yay, you died!" I heard a delighted cry behind me. I spun around and, to my disbelief, Sian was there with a big grin on her face. I couldn't understand why, for I was sure that if anything died in her mother's office, I was sure that she would have been upset by it.

"Oh, Ma's going to be so happy about this!" Sian continued, still grinning and full of relief, from my point of view. I, on the other hand, was so shocked by this that I could barely speak.

"Sian, what – I mean, _how_ – I –"

Sian chuckled, then said, "Kiara, relax, everything's fine, and – oh, wait just one moment." She pulled a camera out of her bag, and the next thing I saw was a blinding flash. I blinked my eyes a few times, and saw Sian, who was trying desperately not to laugh as she looked at the picture that she had just taken of my shocked face as she looked back at me and put the camera back in her bag. "Sorry, but I just couldn't resist getting a picture of the look on your face," she explained. "It was _classic_!" she chuckled a little more to herself.

I went back to an earlier comment that she had said. "Sian, how can you say that everything's fine when a bird has just died in your mother's –"

Before I had time to finish my sentence, and before Sian could say anything else, the office door opened and Crighton came in, looking very sombre.

"Hi, Ma," said Sian, quickly looking at her mother. "Kiara just got the fright of her life, for your pet bird just burst into flame."

"Professor," I gasped, "your bird – I couldn't do anything – she just caught fire –"

And once again to my surprise, Crighton smiled.

"About time, too," she said. "She's been looking dreadful for days. It's a pity that you had to see her on a burning day."

Sian nodded, and said, "Yeah, Ma's been telling her to get a move on for the past few days now, haven't you, Ma?"

"That I have, my darling."

Sian and Crighton both looked at me and chuckled at the astonished look on my face.

"Ma, I think we owe Kiara an explanation before her head explodes," Sian said, failing to keep a straight face. Her mother agreed to this, and turned to me.

"Kenna is a phoenix, Kiara. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are then reborn from the ashes. Watch her …"

Sian and I looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, new-born bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one.

Crighton put Kenna on her perch and then walked to her desk, talking to me at the same time. "She's really very beautiful most of the time: wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers and they make highly _faithful_ pets."

In the shock of Wawes catching fire, I had completely forgotten what I was there for, but it all came back to me as Crighton seated herself behind her desk and fixed me with her piercing, light-green stare.

Before Crighton could speak another word, however, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Mina burst in, a wild look in her eyes, her balaclava perched on top of her smooth brown head and the dead rooster still swinging from her hand.

"It wasn' Kiara, Professor Crighton!" said Mina urgently. "I was talkin' to her _seconds_ before that kid was found, she never had time ma'am …"

Crighton tried to say something, but Mina went ranting on, waving the rooster around in her agitation, sending feathers everywhere.

"… It can't have been her, I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o' Magic if I have to …"

"Mina, I –"

"Yeh've got the wrong girl, ma'am, I know Kiara never –"

" _Mina!"_ said Crighton loudly. "I do not think that Kiara attacked those people."

"Oh," said Mina, the rooster falling limply at her side. "Right. I'll wait outside then, Headmistress."

And she stooped out looking embarrassed.

"You don't think it was me, Professor?" I repeated hopefully, as Crighton brushed rooster feathers off her desk.

"No, Kiara, I don't," said Crighton, though her face was sombre again. "Though I still want to talk to you." I waited nervously while Crighton considered me, the tips of her long fingers together. "Now I must ask you, Kiara, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me," she said gently. "Anything at all."

I didn't know what to say. I thought of Malty shouting, "You'll be next, Sackbrains!" and of the Polyjuice Potion simmering away in Old Moany's bathroom. Then I thought of the disembodied voice I had heard twice and remembered what Chris had said: _"Hearing voices no one else can hear is not a good sign, even in the wizarding world."_ I thought, too, about what everyone else was saying about me, and my growing dread that I was somehow connected to Selena Snake-Eyes …

"No," I said. "There isn't anything, Professor."

Crighton studied me for a few moments, giving me the impression that I was being x-rayed. She nodded, then said. "Very well. Off you go. Oh, and tell Mina to wait a little longer outside, would you? I want top speak with Sian for a bit."

I agreed. I turned on my heel, heard Sian say, "See you in a bit," and left the office.

 **SIAN**

Sian stared at the door which Kiara had just closed, and kept smiling. She was fond of Kiara, and was finally starting to appreciate just how important a friend Kiara was to have in her life.

"She's a good person, Ma," she told her mother about Kiara, still looking at the door.

"Yes, she is," said Crighton, "just like you, my darling."

Sian turned round when she heard her mother say that, for it sounded slightly off. She saw her mother pacing and thinking in front of her desk, with a troubled look on her face. Sian knew her mother well enough to know that something was wrong, so she sighed and said –

"All right, Ma. Spill. What's wrong with you?"

Crighton stopped in her tracks and looked at her eldest daughter. Then she tried to cover up her worry with a smile and this: "There is nothing wrong, my –"

"Ma," Sian interrupted her, "please. I know you."

The two women looked at each other for a few minutes, before Crighton sighed and said, "All right. You got me. Something is troubling me."

"I figured as much," said Sian. "So, what's troubling you, Ma?"

"You know the "no" that Kiara just gave me?"

"Yeah, what about it?" said Sian, looking confused.

"Well, I got that exact same no from a student fifty years ago, by the name of Dizra Maliay," said Crighton. "I've got a picture in here somewhere." And Crighton went back to her desk and started to rummage around in her draws. After a while, she found a small photograph and handed it to Sian. "There you go, dear," she said as she handed it over.

Sian looked at the picture and saw that the girl was beautiful. "Wow," she sighed. " I bet she got a few looks from fellas over the years."

Crighton chuckled at that, then said, "Well, quite." Then she sighed and said, "I taught her here fifty years ago, and I never really trusted her. I was the Transfiguration teacher, just so you know," she said, answering Sian's questioning look, "and I should have kept a closer eye on her than I did."

"Why, Ma?" said Sian, wondering why her mother looked suddenly so old and so full of regret.

"Dizra Maliay, Sian," said Crighton slowly, as she picked up the notebook full of evidence about the monster on her desk. "Think about it …"

As Crighton started to look through her daughter's notebook, and at all the notes that she had made about each attack and the photographs that she had taken which were in the file, Sian thought carefully about the name Dizra Maliay. She thought hard for about five minutes, before she said to her mother, "An anagram, perhaps?"

Without looking at her daughter, Crighton said, "Very good. Keep going."

So, Sian knew that Dizra Maliay was an anagram, and as she sat there, trying to figure out what it meant, she watched her wonderful, lovely mother reading her notes and nodding in places at what she had written. But then, just as her mother wrote the date and the signature on the last page of the notebook that Sian had written in, she gasped, for it finally hit her for what Dizra Maliay was an anagram for. Crighton looked up as Sian ran over to her and whispered in her mother's ear what she thought it was, and was shocked to hear that it was true. Sian then asked her mother whether or not Kiara was going to be in danger again.

"I don't know, my darling, but what I do know is that Kiara needs a _close friend_ to watch out for her –"

"I'll do whatever I can to keep her safe, Ma. I promise," said Sian immediately, for she knew that her mother meant her in particular, and besides, she would do anything in her power to protect Kiara.

"Good. Right, then," Crighton put the notebook back in the evidence file and handed it back to Sian, "thank you for this, my darling. Keep up the good work and report back to me next month with your next findings."

"I will, Ma. And I won't let you down with the whole Kiara thing. Also, I'll check out the double attack tomorrow" Sian kissed her mother on the cheek. "Do you want me to send Mina in now?"

"Yes, I do," Crighton said. Sian nodded, and walked towards the door, but Crighton stopped her.

"Sian?"

Sian turned round, her hand on the door handle. "Yes, Ma?"

"Don't tell Kiara or anyone about what we really know about Dizra Maliay until the time is right to tell Kiara, Chris and Chrissie in particular. You'll know when to tell them, but not now. Off you go."

Sian nodded, and walked out of the office.

 **KIARA**

The double attack on Justine and Nearly Headless Nicola turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nicola's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost, people asked each other; what terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? There was almost a stampede to book seats on one of the school submarines so that students could go home for Christmas.

"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Chrissie told Sian, Chris and I. "Us, Malty, Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley. What a jolly holiday it's going to be."

Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley, who always did whatever Malty did, had signed up to stay over the holidays too. But I was glad that most people were leaving. I was tired of people skirting around me in the corridors, as though I was about to sprout fangs or spit poison, tired of all the muttering, pointing or hissing as I passed.

Tanya and Geri, however, found this to be very amusing. They went out of their way to march ahead of me down the corridors, shouting, and "Make way for the heir of Snake-Eyes. Seriously evil witch coming through …"

Perdy was deeply disapproving of their behaviour.

"It is not a laughing matter," she said coldly.

"Oh, get out of the way, Perdy," said Tanya. "Kiara's in a hurry."

"Yeah, she's nipping off to the Chamber of Mysteries to have a cup of tea with her fanged servant," said Geri, chortling.

Kestrel didn't find it amusing, either.

"Oh, don't," she wailed, every time Tanya asked me loudly who I was planning to attack next, or Geri pretended to ward me off with a large clove of garlic when we met.

I didn't really mind; it made me feel better that Tanya and Geri, at least, thought the idea of me being Snake-Eyes' heir was quite ludicrous. But their antics seemed to be aggravating Dani Malty, who looked increasingly sour each time she saw them at it.

"It's because she's _bursting_ to say it's really her," said Chrissie knowingly. "You know she hates anyone beating her at anything, and you're getting all the credit for her dirty work."

"Not for long," said Sian in a satisfied tone. "The Polyjuice Potion's nearly ready. We'll be getting the truth out of her any day now."

At last the term ended, and a silence as deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. I found it peaceful rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that me, Tanya, Geri, Perdy and the Dawsons had the run of Lion-Heart Tower, which meant we could play Exploding Snap early without bothering anyone, and practise duelling in private. Beth and Kestrel had chosen to stay at school rather than visit their cousin Gary in Egypt, with Mr Dawson and the rest of their siblings, besides Max. Perdy, who highly disapproved of what she called our childish behaviour, didn't spend much time in the Lion-Heart common room. She had told us at the start of the holidays that _she_ was only staying over Christmas because it was her duty as a Prefect to support the teachers during this troubled time.

On Christmas morning, Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and I decided to surprise Chris and give him a very early wake-up call, not only because it was Christmas, but also because boys were not – and still are not – allowed to enter the girls dormitories, out of fear that the boys could not be trusted in them. So the five of us got our presents and made our way to the boys' dormitory, and found Chris, to our annoyance, already awake. But we quickly smiled and said "Merry Christmas!" to each other. We sat down on four other beds (for the other Dawson boys, as we rightfully suspected) and opened up our presents. Chris chucked us the presents he had got for us.

Sian, Chrissie and I went and sat on Chris' bed, out of the earshot of Beth and Kestrel. "I've been up for nearly an hour now adding more lacewings to the Potion. It's ready," Sian whispered to us, when we made sure that Beth and Kestrel were interested in their presents.

This woke Chris, Chrissie and I up properly.

"Are you sure?" I asked Sian.

"Positive," she said. "If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

At that moment, Harold swooped into the room, carrying a few packages in his claws and beak.

"Hello," I said happily, as he landed on my head, "are you speaking to me again?"

He nibbled my ear in an affectionate sort of way, which was a good present, along with the boxes of home-made cookies and sweets that my grandmothers had made for me.

The rest of my Christmas presents were as satisfactory as these were. Mina had sent me a large tin of treacle fudge, which I decided to soften before the fire before eating; Chrissie had given me a book called _Flying with the Cannons_ , a book of interesting facts about her favourite Quidditch team; Chris had given me a box of luxury sweets, and Sian had bought me a luxury eagle-feather quill, along with another knitted jumper, which was blue with a gold "K" in the middle, some caramel chocolate with a plum cake from Mr Dawson, and another cushion from Sian, which had a picture of my horse Timmy on the front and the same Gaelic script embroidered around the edges. I looked at Mr Dawson's card with a surge of guilt, thinking about Sian's car, which hadn't been seen since it's crash with the Bashing Tree, and the bout of rule-breaking Chrissie and I were planning next.

0000

No one, not even someone dreading to take Polyjuice Potion later, could fail to enjoy Christmas dinner at Dragon Mort.

The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe criss-crossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry from the ceiling. Crighton lead us in a few of her favourite carols, Mina booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog she consumed. Perdy, who hadn't noticed that Tanya had bewitched her Prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead", kept asking us all what we were sniggering at. I didn't even care that Dani Malty was making loud, snide remarks about my new jumper from the Snake-Eyes table. With a bit of luck – and a majority of false hope from Chris, Chrissie and I, as you'll later find out – Malty would be getting her come-uppance in a few hours' time.

Chris, Chrissie and I had barely finished eating our third helpings of Christmas pudding when Sian ushered us out of the Hall to finalise our plans for the evening.

"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Sian matter-of-factly, as though she was sending us to the supermarket for washing powder. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crate and Gabber's; they're Malty's best friends, she'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley can't burst in on us while we're interrogating her.

"I've got it all worked out," she went on smoothly, ignoring mine, Chris and Chrissie's stupefied faces. She held up two plump chocolate cakes. "I've filled these up with a simple Sleeping Draught. Kiara, Chrissie, all you two have to do is make sure Crate and Gabber find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom cupboard."

Chris, Chrissie and I looked incredulously at each other.

"Sian, I don't think –"

"That could go seriously wrong –"

"Is there not another way –?"

But Sian had a steely glint in her eye, not unlike the one Professor Darbus had sometimes.

"The Potion will be useless without Crate and Gabber's hair," she said sternly. "You do want to interrogate Malty, don't you?"

"Oh, all right, all right," I said. "But what about you and Chris? Have you got a hair for him? And, have you got Rae-Bradley's hair yet?"

"Oh yeah, I did that a few hours ago," Sian said smugly.

"How?" said Chrissie.

"I saw her walking a few hours ago, walked up behind her and knocked her out with something – she's not seriously injured, she'll just be out for a few hours – poured some Sleeping Solution in her mouth and locked her in a broom cupboard. Simple, really."

"Nice," said Chris, clearly impressed, as were myself and Chrissie. "But what about mine, then?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that, Rickers, for I've got ours with me," said Sian brightly, pulling out two tiny bottles out of her pocket and showing us the single hairs inside each of them. "This one is for you, Chris. See the label named C.R.? Your hair is from Mackley Bull who was wrestling with you at the Duelling Club? I saw this hair on your robes, and figured that it must be one of his. And he's gone home for Christmas – so Chris, you'll just have to tell the Snake-Eyes you've decided to come back. Of course, I was thinking that I should have Scanned it first, for I wasn't too sure whether it was his or not, but –"

"I'm sure it'll work fine, Sian," said Chris, as Sian handed him the bottle. And those six words he would soon come to regret. "Thanks for doing this for me, sister."

"Any time," said Sian. "Right then, Rickers, you and me need to go and check on the Polyjuice Potion. And you two," she said, turning to Chrissie and I, "make sure that Crate and Gabber find those cakes."

Once Sian and Chris were gone, Chrissie turned to me with a doom-laden expression.

"Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?"

0000

I remember how scared I was at that time; how the anxiety and nervousness churned within me, how my hands shook and a cold sweat took over me; how every inch of me was trembling with fear that we'd be caught out, or that some stupid mistake would happen and that Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I would be expelled for sure. I remember that every time I thought of this, I would start feeling really sick, but it was too late to turn back on our plans now.

But to mine and Chrissie's utter amazement, we had nothing to worry about; for stage one of the operation went just as smoothly as Sian had said. We lurked in the deserted Entrance Hall after Christmas tea, waiting for Crate and Gabber, who had remained alone at the Snake-Eyes table, shovelling down fourth helpings of trifle. I perched the chocolate cakes on the end of the banisters. When we spotted Crate and Gabber coming out of the Great Hall, Chrissie and I hid quickly behind a suit of armour next to the front door.

"How thick can you get?" Chrissie whispered ecstatically, as Crate gleefully pointed out the cakes to Gabber and grabbed them. Grinning stupidly, they stuffed the cakes whole into their large mouths. For a moment, both of them chewed greedily, looks of triumph on their faces. Then, without the smallest change of expression, they both keeled over backwards onto the floor.

Much the most difficult bit was hiding them in the cupboard across the Hall. Once they were safely stowed amongst the buckets and mops, I yanked out a couple of long, wiry hairs that covered Gabber's forehead and Chrissie pulled out several of Crate's hairs. We also stole their shoes, because our own would be far too small for Crate and Gabber-sized feet. Then, still stunned at what we had done, we sprinted up to Old Moany's bathroom.

Once we got in there, we could hardly see for the thick black smoke issuing from the circle of sinks in front of us. We could see Chris, who stepped forwards and helped us over to Sian, who we heard stirring the cauldron. Chris, Chrissie and I covered our robes up to our faces and made our way to her.

Sian turned her face to us when we saw her.

"Did you get them?" she said to me and Chrissie breathlessly.

I showed her Gabber's hair.

"Good. And I sneaked these spare robes out of the laundry," Sian said, holding up a small sack. "We'll need bigger sizes once we're Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley."

The four of us stared into the cauldron. Close up, the Potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.

"I'm sure I've done everything right," said Sian, nervously re-reading the spotted page of _Moste Potente Potions_. "It looks like the book said it should. Once we've drank it, we'll have exactly an hour before we turn back into ourselves."

"Now what?" Chris whispered.

"We separate it into four glasses and add the hairs."

Sian ladled large dollops of the Potion into each of the glasses. Then, her hand trembling, she nodded at Chris, who understood, and, hands trembling, he shook Mackley Bull's hair into the first glass, as Sian shook Rae-Bradley's into the second.

Both hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, Sian's had turned the colour of moss and Chris a sick sort of yellow.

"Ugh – essence of Bull," said Chrissie, eyeing it with disgust. "Bet it tastes revolting."

"Add yours, then," said Chris.

I dropped Gabber's hair into the third glass and Chrissie put Crate's in the last one. Both glasses hissed and frothed again: Gabber's turned the khaki colour of a bogey, Crate's a dark, murky brown.

"Hang on," I said, as Chris, Sian and Chrissie reached for their glasses. "We'd better choose a cubicle and drink them in there: once we turn into Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley, we won't fit. And Mackley Bull's much taller than you, Chris. I know we will fit out here, but it'll be a bit weird to see each other change, won't it?"

"Good thinking," said Chrissie, grabbing her glass. "We'll take separate cubicles."

Careful not to spill any of my Potion, I slipped into the middle cubicle.

"Ready?" I called.

"Ready," came Chris, Sian and Chrissie's voices.

"One … two … three …"

Pinching my nose, I drank the Potion in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage.

Immediately, my insides started writhing as though I'd just swallowed live snakes – doubled up, I wondered whether I was going to be sick – then I felt a burning sensation start to spread rapidly from my stomach to the very ends of my fingers and toes. Next, bringing me gasping to all fours, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over me bubbled like hot wax, and before my eyes, my hands began to grow, the fingers thickened, the nails broadened and the knuckles were bulging like bolts. My shoulders stretched painfully and my hair was shortened as well as changing colour; my robes ripped as my chest expanded like a barrel bursting its hoops; my feet were in agony in shoes that were four sizes too small …

As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. I lay face down on the cold stone floor, listening to Old Moany's groaning in the end toilet. With difficulty, I kicked off my shoes and stood up. So this was what it felt like, being Gabber. My large hands trembling, I pulled off my uniform, which didn't fit me for the time, put on the spare ones and laced up Gabber's boat-like shoes. I reached up to brush the hair out of my eyes and met the long growth of wiry bristles which were now on my forehead. I called, "Are you three OK?" Gabber's high rasp of a voice issued from my mouth. It felt odd speaking in that voice, for it _clearly_ was not my own, but what could I do?

"Yeah," came the dreary voice of Crate from my right, and to my left came Sian's, "Yeah," in the clear and _unbelievably_ cheery voice of Rae-Bradley.

I unlocked my door and stepped out. I walked up to the circle of sinks with mirrors over them. Gabber stared back at me out of deep, dull-set eyes. I scratched my ear. So did Gabber.

Sian and Chrissie's doors opened. I spun around and we all stared at each other. We all had the same thought: _This is so WEIRD!_ Except that they looked pale and shocked, Chrissie was indistinguishable from Crate as Sian was from Rae-Bradley; Chrissie had Crate's shoulder length hair and long, gorilla arms, whereas Sian had Rae-Bradley's stout figure and waist-length hair.

"This is unbelievable," said Chrissie, approaching the mirror and prodding Crate's flat nose. _"Unbelievable."_

"We'd better get going," I said, loosening the watch that was cutting into Gabber's thick wrist. "We've still got to find out where the Snake-Eyes common room is. I only hope we can find someone to follow …"

Chrissie, who had been gazing at me, said, "You don't know how bizarre it is to see Gabber _thinking_." She then went to Chris' door and started to bang on it. "C'mon, Chris, we need to go …"

An almost-casual voice answered her. "I-I don't think I'm going. You go on without me."

"Chris, we know Mackley Bull's ugly, no one's going to know it's you," I said.

"No – really – I don't think I'll come. You three hurry up, you're wasting time."

I looked at Sian and Chrissie, bewildered.

" _That_ looks more like Gabber," said Chrissie. " _That's_ how she looks every time a teacher asks her a question."

"Well, Chris is right, we should be getting a move on," said Sian, moving to the door. "Chris, are you sure that you're all right in there?"

"Sian, is that you?" Chris asked unexpectedly.

"Well of _course_ it's me, Rickers? Who else would you expect it to be?" And even though her voice sounded different, we could hear Sian speak through Rae-Bradley.

"Well I'm glad it's you I'm speaking to, Sian, because when you get back, I am going to KILL YOU! Now, get a move on!"

Sian, Chrissie and I were startled for a few moments at Chris' sudden outburst, and then I looked down at my watch. Five of our precious sixty minutes had already passed.

"We'll meet you back here, all right?" I called to Chris.

Sian, Chrissie and I opened the door of the bathroom carefully, checked the coast was clear and set off.

"What do you think that was about?" I said to Sian and Chrissie.

"Yeah, I mean, why was he mad at you like that, S.D.?" Chrissie asked Sian.

Sian looked pale as she answered, "I have a hunch, but I could be wrong."

"Don't swing your arms like that," I muttered to Chrissie.

"Eh?"

"Crate holds them sort of stiff …"

"How's this?"

"Yeah, that's better."

Sian stopped us before we went any further.

"Sian, what're you –?" I began, but Sian interrupted me.

"I should have told you this in the bathroom before we drank the Potion, but never mind now," she said to us in a quick whisper. "Look, just remember that no matter what happens we're Snake-Eyes students for the time being, so just try to act like evil scary people, OK?" Chrissie and I both nodded and we walked on.

We went down the marble staircase. All we needed now was a Snake-Eyes whom we could follow to the Snake-Eyes common room, but unfortunately for us, there was no one in sight.

"Any ideas?" I muttered.

"The Snake-Eyes always come up to breakfast from over there," said Sian, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. The words had hardly left her mouth when a boy with curly hair emerged from the entrance.

"Excuse me," said Chrissie, hurrying up to him, "we've forgotten the way to our common room."

"I beg your pardon?" said the boy stiffly. " _I'm_ a Raven-Wing."

He walked away, looking suspiciously back at us.

Sian, Chrissie and I hurried down the stone steps into the dungeons, our footsteps echoing particularly loudly – except Sian's – as Crate and Gabber's feet hit the floor, feeling that this wasn't going to be as easy as we had hoped.

The labyrinth passageways were deserted. We walked deeper and deeper under the school, constantly checking our watches to see how much time we had left. After a quarter of an hour, just when we were getting desperate, we heard a sudden movement ahead.

"Ha!" said Chrissie excitedly. "There's one of them now!"

The figure was emerging from a side room. As we hurried over, however, our hearts sank. It wasn't a Snake-Eyes, it was Perdy.

"What're you doing down here?" said Chrissie in surprise.

Perdy looked affronted.

"That," she said stiffly, "is none of your business. It's Crate, isn't it?"

"Wh – oh, yes," said Chrissie.

"Well, get off to your dormitories," said Perdy sternly. At this, Sian chuckled. Perdy looked round at her, taken aback.

"Is something _funny_ , Rae-Bradley?" Perdy sniffed.

"Er, yeah, _you_ trying to tell _us_ what to do; for you see, Fang, we don't take orders from Lion-Hearts, do we, girls?" said Sian, looking fixedly at me and Chrissie. At this pointer, we both shook our heads, and Sian gave a satisfied smile to Perdy.

"You know, Rae-Bradley," said Perdy, her face a glowing shade of red, "you'd better watch your step –"

"Or what?" Sian sneered. "What are you going to do to me? After all, Fang, threats don't work unless you deliver, you know."

Perdy glowered at Sian for a few moments, then turned back to Chrissie and said, "It's not safe to be wondering around dark corridors these days."

" _You_ are," Chrissie pointed out.

"I," said Perdy, drawing herself up, "am a Prefect. Nothing's about to attack _me_."

A voice suddenly echoed behind Sian, Chrissie and I. Dani Malty was striding towards us, and for the first time in my life, I was pleased to see her.

"There you are," she drawled, looking at us. "I've been looking everywhere for you. I want to show you something funny."

Malty glanced witheringly at Perdy.

"And what're you doing down her, Fang?" she sneered.

"Yeah, this isn't your patch, is it, Fang?" Sian sneered straight after. Malty sneered and she and Sian looked at each other evilly. It was a strange sight seeing Sian like that, but I knew she was acting, so it didn't bother me too much.

"Well said, cousin," said Malty approvingly.

Perdy looked outraged at these comments.

"Malty and Rae-Bradley, you two had better watch your attitudes!" she said.

Malty sneered and motioned to me and Chrissie to follow her and Sian, whose arm she had just linked hers through. I almost said something apologetic to Perdy but I caught myself just in time. Me and Chrissie hurried after Sian and Malty, who said as we turned into the next passage, " _That_ Patricia Fang –"

"Perdy," Chrissie corrected for her automatically.

"Whatever," said Malty. "I've noticed her sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what she's up to. She thinks she's going to catch Snake-Eyes' heir single-handed."

She gave a short, derisive laugh. Sian, Chrissie and I exchanged excited looks, although it was difficult for Sian, for she had to do it only for a few moments, since she still had her arm through Malty's.

Malty paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

"What's the new password again?" she said to me.

"Er –"

"Oh, yeah – _Dim Brain_!" said Malty, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malty and Sian marched through it, with me and Chrissie following them.

The Snake-Eyes common room was long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of us, and several Snake-Eyes were silhouetted around it in carved chairs.

"Wait here," said Malty to me, Sian and Chrissie, motioning them to three empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it – my mother's just sent it me –"

Wondering what Malty was going to show us, Sian, Chrissie and I sat down, doing our best to look at home.

Malty came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper cutting. She thrust it under Sian's nose.

"That'll give you a laugh," she said.

I saw Sian try to look amused, but I could see the shock and hurt in her eyes. She read the cutting quickly, gave a hearty laugh and handed it over to Chrissie, who read it through quickly with shock on her face, gave a very forced laugh and then handed it to me.

It had been clipped out of the _Daily Squabbler_ , and it said:

 _ENQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

 _Matthew Dawson, of the Auror Headquarters, was today fined fifty Galleons, as was partner-in-crime, Joseph Parker, for inappropriately "bewitching" a Muggle car._

 _Mrs Narissa Malty, a governor of Dragon Mort Magical Academy, where the supposed_ "enchanted car" _crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr Dawson's resignation._

" _Dawson has brought the Ministry of Magic into disrepute," Mrs Malty told our reporters. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous plans to protect Muggles should be stopped immediately."_

 _Mr Dawson was available for just one comment from his eldest daughter, who currently attends Dragon Mort Magical Academy, and she wrote to her father to tell him to tell our reporters that if we ever spoke to her father, she would set the family ghoul on them when she got home for her summer holidays._

"Well," said Malty impatiently, as I handed back the cutting to Malty. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha, ha, ha," Sian said loudly, looking fixedly at me and Chrissie again to follow suit, which we did.

"If Matthew Dawson loves Muggles so much he should just snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Malty scornfully. "You'd never know the Dawsons were pure-bloods, the way that they behave."

Chrissie's – or rather, Crate's – face was contorted with fury, whilst Sian's was completely full of laughter, which was very short lived, for her eyes were mad.

"What's up with you, Crate?" snapped Malty.

"Stomach ache," Chrissie growled.

"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Sackwhacks a kick from me," said Malty, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised the _Daily Squabbler_ hasn't reported all these attacks yet," she went on thoughtfully. "I suppose Crighton's trying to hush it all up – she'll be sacked if it doesn't stop. Mother's always said Crighton's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. She _loves_ Bright-brains, her eldest daughter is one. A decent Headmistress would never've let slime like that McCreevy in."

Malty started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel impression of Colleen: "Pride-Lander, can I have your picture, Pride-Lander? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Pride-Lander?"

She dropped her hands and Sian laughed, but Malty turned on Chrissie and I.

What's the matter with you two?"

We saw Sian looking fixedly at us again, and far too late, me and Chrissie forced ourselves to laugh, but Malty seemed satisfied, as did Sian; perhaps Crate and Gabber were always slow on the uptake.

"Saint Pride-Lander, friend of Sackwhacks and Mudbloods alike," said Malty slowly. "She's another one with no proper feeling, or she wouldn't go around with that jumped-up eldest Dawson girl Sackwhack. And people think _she's_ the heir of Snake-Eyes!"

Sian, Chrissie and I waited with baited breath: Malty was surely seconds away from telling us it was her. But then –

"I _wish_ I knew who it _is_ ," said Malty petulantly. "I could help them."

Chrissie's jaw dropped so that Crate's face looked even more gormless than usual. Fortunately, Malty didn't notice, and me, thinking fast, said, "You must have some idea who's behind it all …"

"You know I haven't, Gabber; how many times do I have to tell you?" Malty snapped. "And Mother won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened, either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before her time, but she knows all about it, and she says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I do know one thing: the last time the Chamber of Mysteries was opened, a Sackwhack died. So I bet it's only a matter of time before one of them's killed this time … I hope it's the eldest Dawson girl," she said with relish.

Chrissie was clenching Crate's giant fists. Feeling that it would be a bit of a giveaway if Chrissie punched Malty, I shot her a warning look and Sian said, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught, Dani?"

"Oh, yeah … whoever it was was expelled," said Malty. "They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" I said, puzzled.

"Azkaban – _the_ _wizard prison_ , Gabber," said Malty, looking at me in disbelief. "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backwards."

She shifted nervously in her chair and said, "Mother says to keep my head down and let the heir of Snake-Eyes get on with it. She says the school needs ridding of all the Sackwhack and Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, she's got a lot on her plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our house last week?"

I tried to force Gabber's dull face into a look of concern.

"Yeah …" said Malty. "Luckily, they didn't find much. Mother's got some _very_ valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing room floor –"

"Ho!" said Chrissie.

Malty looked at her, as did me and Sian. Chrissie blushed. Even her hair was changing back to brown, as was Sian's. Their noses were lengthening – our hour was up. Sian and Chrissie were turning back into themselves, and from the looks of horror Sian and Chrissie were giving me, I must have been, too.

The three of us jumped to our feet.

"Medicine for my stomach," Chrissie moaned, and without further ado we sprinted the length of the Snake-Eyes common room, hurled ourselves at the stone wall and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Malty hadn't noticed anything. I could feel my feet slipping around in Gabber's huge shoes and I had to hoist up my skirt as I shrank; we crashed up the steps into the dark Entrance Hall, which was full of a muffled pounding coming from the cupboard where Chrissie and I had locked Crate and Gabber, and where Sian had locked Rae-Bradley, to our surprise, for me and Chrissie hadn't seen her when we had put Crate and Gabber in there earlier. Anyhoo, leaving their shoes outside the cupboard door, we sprinted in our socks up the marble staircase towards Old Moany's bathroom.

"Phew!" Chrissie breathed. "That was close."

" _No!"_ Sian corrected her. "That was _fast_. We were almost thrown in the deep end back there, because of you two."

Chrissie and I looked at each other in confusion, turned back to Sian and said, "Us? What did we do?" simultaneously.

Sian did a sort of snort and then said, "Please, you two were _so_ pathetic back there. You – Chrissie in particular – almost blew our cover. I acted perfectly, whereas you, Christina, almost took Malty out, which really would have put us in the frying pan then!" Sian then took a side look at Chrissie, rolled her eyes and shook her head, in a look that I came to know as Chrissie's predictable look.

Chrissie looked a little upset at this, but quickly blew it off as she said, "Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Chrissie panted, as she closed the bathroom door behind us. I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malty's drawing room. Oh, and by the way, Sian," Chrissie said, turning to her eldest sister, "what was that all about in the paper cutting with the family ghoul? We haven't got a family ghoul!"

"Oh, well Dad did write to me a few weeks ago and told me that the Ministry was suspecting what he did with the car and that Mrs Malty might do him in and asked for my help; so I wrote back and told him to make up some cock-and-bull story about us having a family ghoul who lived in the attic, and that I would set him on any nosy reporters who were sneaking around when I came home for summer."

"All right, then," Chrissie shrugged as I checked my face in the cracked mirror. It was back to normal. Sian hammered on the door of Chris' cubicle.

"Chris, come out, we've got loads to tell you –"

"Go away, Sian!" Chris yelled. "I don't want to talk to you!"

Sian, Chrissie and I looked at each other.

"What's the matter?" said Chrissie. "You must be back to normal by now, we are …"

But Old Moany glided suddenly through the cubicle door. I had never seen him looking so happy.

"Ooooooh, wait till you see," he said. "It's _awful_! You go in first, eldest Dawson girl," Old Moany said maliciously, looking evilly at Sian. "He'll be really glad to see _you_!"

We heard the lock slide back and Sian went slowly forward, and opened the cubicle carefully. Then she gasped after a quick look inside, shut the door and leaned against the door, her eyes wide, the colour drained from her face, her hand over her heart.

"Ah, I seem to have made a _slight_ mistake," said Sian uneasily, as we heard Chris from inside say, "More than a _slight mistake_ , sister!"

"Why, what did you do?" I asked her uncertainly.

"Yeah, I mean Chris can't look that bad," Chrissie sniggered. "I mean, he doesn't have Mackley's nose, does he?"

Sian shook her head and said, "No, no, it's not that. Oh, I just _knew_ that I should have Scanned that hair before I gave it to Chris."

Chrissie and I looked at each other, really starting to worry now. "Sian, what did you do?" I asked her slowly.

Sian gulped and said, "Well … do you both remember when I told you that the Polyjuice Potion was only meant for _human_ transformations?" Chrissie and I both nodded, and Sian went on: "Well, you see, I made one fatal error. For you see, I was wrong about the hair, for it didn't come from Mackley Bull …" she paused and opened the door. Chris came out with the hood of his robes over his head. He pulled them off and Chrissie and I backed up a bit.

"It was a cat hair that I plucked instead!" Sian finished, the guilt strong in her voice, the water almost brewing in her eyes as she looked at her adopted brother.

His face was covered in black fur. His eyes had gone yellow and there were long pointed ears poking through his hair. He was currently glaring at Sian.

"I hate you for this, Sian, _so much_ right now!" he shouted at her.

Sian took a few deep breaths in order to steady herself before she replied, "I know, Chris, and you have every right to be; for I am truly sorry that this happened to you, and I'm sorry that I didn't scan that hair. I hate myself more than you can know and this is all my fault!"

"Well of course it's your fault, Sian, I mean, who else are we going to blame here?" Chrissie spat. "And besides, we all blame you for this, _sister_!"

"Well, I don't!" I said indignantly. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and Old Moany all looked at me in shock.

"You _don't_ blame me for this, Kiara?" Sian spoke softly, confusion and astonishment mingled in her face. "You should do, though …"

"Yeah, well, you're not the first and you certainly will not be the last person to make a mistake on this earth." Sian smiled at me for this, and it was a smile of comfort, which I was glad of.

"You'll be teased something _dreadful_ ," said Moany happily to Chris, interrupting the moment, which made Sian's smile vanish and Chris bow his head in shame, just like a happy bubble being popped.

"It's OK, Chris," I said quickly. "We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Matron never asks too many questions."

It took a long time for Sian, Chrissie and I to persuade Chris to leave the bathroom. Old Moany sped us on our way with a hearty guffaw.

"Wait till everyone finds out you've got a _tail_!"

0000

 **Just so you know, the name Kenna for the phoenix is actually an English name, which means _"Born of Fire"_. So that makes sense.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 **The Very Mysterious Diary**

 **KIARA**

Chris remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumours flying around about his disappearance when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas holidays, because, of course, everyone thought that he had been attacked. So many students filed past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of him that Matron took out the curtains again and placed them around Chris' bed, to spare him the shame of being seen with a furry face.

Sian, Chrissie and I went to visit him every evening. When the new term started, we brought him each day's homework.

"If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work," said Chrissie, as Sian tipped a stock of books onto Chris' bedside table one evening.

"Chrissie's right, Sian," he said, sitting up. "I mean, I need to relax, don't I?"

"Oh, the pair of you are talking nonsense!" Sian snapped. "You've got to keep up with your studies, Chris, if you want to pass your exams!" Sian took a deep breath, shook her head and then said to Chris, "Has Ma been to see you yet, Rickers?"

"Yes, she has. She didn't ask me much, but she has said that I should be careful what I drink, in future." We all laughed at this, including Chris, which was an improvement.

You see my fellow readers, Chris' spirits had greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from his face and his eyes were turning back slowly to their forest-green. "I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" said Chris in a whisper, so that Matron couldn't hear him.

"Nothing," I said gloomily.

"I was so _sure_ it was Malty," said Chrissie, for about the hundredth time.

"I know. I was too," said Chris, with a small smile.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Chris' pillow.

"Just a Get Well card," said Chris, trying to poke it out of sight, but Sian was too quick for him. She pulled it out, flipped it open and read aloud:

" _To Mr Rickers, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Giselle Gold, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Wizard Weekly's Most Dazzling Smile Award."_

Sian, Chrissie and I all looked at Chris, disgusted.

"You sleep with that under your _pillow_?" said Chrissie in disbelief.

But Chris was spared answering her by Matron sweeping over with his evening dose of medicine.

"Is Gold the smarmiest woman you've ever met, or what?" Chrissie said to me and Sian as we left the dormitory and started up the stairs towards Lion-Heart Tower. Triphorm had given us so much homework; I thought I was likely to be in my sixth year before I'd finished it. Chrissie was just asking Sian how many rat tails you're supposed to add to a Hair-Poisoning Potion, when and angry outburst from the floor above reached our ears.

"That's Matchstick," I muttered, as we hurried up the stairs and paused out of sight, listening hard.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked, do you?" Sian said tensely.

We stood still, our heads inclined towards Match's voice, which seemed quite hysterical.

"… _even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw; I'm going to Crighton …"_

His footsteps receded and we heard a distant door slam.

We poked our heads around the corner. Match had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: we were once again on the spot where Mrs Robbs had been attacked. We saw at a glance what Match had been shouting about; a great flood of water stretched over half the corridor and it looked as though it was still seeping under Old Moany's bathroom. Now Match had stopped shouting, we could hear Moany's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

" _Now_ what's up with him?" said Chrissie.

"Let's go and see," I said, and we carefully waded through the great wash of water to the door bearing the "Out of Order" sign, ignored it as always and entered.

Old Moany was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. He seemed to be hiding down his usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom, for the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left the walls and floor soaking wet.

"What's up, Moany?" I said.

"Who's that?" glugged Moany miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

I waded across to his cubicle and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Moany shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, just simply minding my own business, when someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me …"

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," Chrissie said reasonably, and yet unthinkingly. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?"

Just as Sian hissed, _"Chrissie!"_ in Chrissie's ear, I knew she had said the wrong thing, for Moany puffed himself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Moany because he can't _feel_ it! Ten points if you can get it through his stomach! Fifty points if it goes through his head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I _don't_ think!"

"Who threw it at you anyway?" I asked.

" _I_ don't know … I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," Moany said, glaring at us. "It's over there, it got washed out."

Sian, Chrissie and I looked under the sink where Moany was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby red cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. I stepped forward to pick it up, but Sian and Chrissie held me back.

"What?" I said.

"Are you mad?" said Chrissie.

"It could be dangerous," said Sian.

" _Dangerous?"_ I said, laughing. "Come off it. How could it be dangerous?"

"You'd be surprised," said Sian, who was looking anxiously at the book. "Some of the books the Ministry's confiscated – Dad's told us – there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read _Sonnets of a Sorcerer_ spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could _never stop reading_! You just had to wander round with your nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And –"

"All right, I've got the point," I said.

The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and dry.

"Well, we won't find out unless we look at it," I said, and I ducked under Sian and Chrissie and picked it off the floor.

I saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told me that it was fifty years old. I opened it eagerly. In the first page I could just make out the name _"D. Maliay"_ in smudged ink. This object, by the way, is an important part of the puzzle, not just in this year, but in the sixth year, also. But we'll get to that later.

"Hang on," said Chrissie, who had approached me cautiously with Sian and were now looking over my shoulder. "I know that name … D. Maliay got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

"How on earth do you know that?" said Sian in amazement.

"Because Match made me polish her shield about fifty times in detention," said Chrissie resentfully. "That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you'd wiped slime off a name for an hour, you'd remember it, too."

I peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasn't the faintest trace of writing on any of them, not even "Auntie Mabel's birthday", or "dentist, half-past three".

"She never wrote in it," I said, disappointed.

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away?" Sian said curiously.

I turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a newsagent in Vauxhall Road, London.

"She must have been Muggle-born," I said thoughtfully, "to have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road …"

"Well, it's not much use to you," said Chrissie. She dropped her voice. "Fifty points if you can get it through Moany's nose."

I didn't bother listening to Chrissie. I pocketed it.

0000

Chris left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less and fur-free, at the beginning of February. On his first evening back in Lion-Heart Tower, I showed him D. Maliay's diary and told him the story of how we had found it.

"It might have hidden powers?" said Chris questioningly, taking the diary and looking at it more closely. "Or hidden powers?"

"If it has, it's hiding them very well," said Chrissie. "Maybe it's shy. I don't know why you just chuck it, Kiara."

"I don't know why someone did try to chuck it," I said. "I wouldn't mind knowing how Maliay got an award for special services to Dragon Mort, either."

"Could've been anything," said Chrissie. "Maybe she got thirty O.W.L.s or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe she murdered Moany; that would've done everyone a favour …"

But I could tell from the arrested looks on Chris and Sian's faces that they were thinking the exact same thing that I was.

"What?" said Chrissie, looking at us.

"Well, the Chamber of Mysteries was opened fifty years ago, wasn't it?" I said. "That's what Malty said."

"Yeah …" said Chrissie slowly.

"And _this diary_ is fifty years old," said Chris, tapping it excitedly.

"So?"

"Oh, Chrissie, wake up and use your brain for once in your life!" Sian snapped. "We know the person who opened the Chamber last was expelled _fifty years ago_. We know D. Maliay got an award for special services to the school _fifty years ago_. Well, what if Maliay got her award for _catching the heir of Snake-Eyes?_ Her diary would probably tell us everything: where the Chamber is, how to open it and what sort of creature lives in it. The person who's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want that lying around, would they?"

"That's a _brilliant_ theory, Sian," said Chrissie, "with just one little flaw: _there's nothing written in her diary._ "

But Sian was pulling her wand out of her bag.

"It might be invisible ink!" she whispered.

She tapped the diary three times and said, _"Aparecium!"_

Nothing happened. Undaunted, Chris put his hand into his bag and pulled out what appeared to be a bright red eraser.

"It's a Revealer; I got it in Brickabon Alley," he said.

He rubbed hard on _"January the first"_. Nothing happened again.

"I'm telling you, there's nothing to _find_ in there," said Chrissie. "Maliay just got a diary for Christmas and couldn't be bothered filling it in."

I couldn't explain to anyone, myself included, why I didn't just throw Maliay's diary away. The fact of the matter was that even though I knew diary was blank, I kept absent-mindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it was a story I wanted to finish. And while I was sure I had never heard the name D. Maliay before, it still seemed to mean something to me, almost as though Maliay was a friend I'd had when I was very small, and was half-forgotten. But this was absurd. I'd had friends before I came to Dragon Mort, but none of them under the name of D. Maliay. Of course, if I'd known who D. Maliay was at that moment, I would have been more cautious of her, but I – not unlike Crighton – was yet to learn of her true nature.

Nevertheless, I was determined to find out more about Maliay, so the next day at break, I headed for the trophy room to examine Maliay's special award, accompanied by interested persons Chris and Sian and a thoroughly unconvinced Chrissie, who told us she's seen enough of the trophy room to last her a lifetime.

Maliay's burnished gold shield was tucked away in a corner cabinet. It didn't carry details of why it had been given to her.

"Good thing, too, or it'd been even bigger and I'd still be polishing it," said Chrissie. However, we did find Maliay's name on an old medal for Magical Merit, and on a list of old Head Girls.

"She sounds like Ma," said Chrissie, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Prefect, Head Girl – probably top of the class."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Sian said in a slightly hurt voice.

0000

The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Dragon Mort again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justine and Nearly Headless Nicola, and Matron was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive.

"The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for re-potting again," I heard her telling Match kindly one afternoon. "And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Mrs Robbs back in no time."

I thought that the heir of Snake-Eyes had lost his or her nerve at that time. It must have been getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Darkness, with the whole school so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the monster, whatever it was, was even now settling down to hibernation for another fifty years …

However, I was mistaken in my thoughts. We'll get to that later, though. Now on with the story.

Emily Mack of Badger-Stripes didn't take this cheerful view. She was still convinced that I was still the guilty one and that I had "given myself away" at the Duelling Club. Weeves wasn't helping matters for me, either: she kept on popping up in the crowded corridors singing _"Oh Prider, you rotter …"_ , now with a dance routine to match.

Giselle Gold seemed to think that she herself had made the attacks stop. I overheard her telling Professor Darbus so whilst me and the rest of the Lion-Hearts were lining up for Transfiguration.

"I don't think they'll be any more trouble, Deidre," she said, tapping her nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught them. Rather sensible to stop them now, before I came down hard on them.

"You know, what this school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now. In fact, I think I know just the thing …"

She tapped her nose again and strode off.

0000

Gold's idea of a morale-booster became clear on Tuesday, February 14th 2006. I remember I hadn't had much sleep because of late-running Quidditch practice the night before, and I hurried down to the Great Hall slightly late. I thought, for a moment, that I had walked through the wrong doors.

The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. I went over to the Lion-Heart table, where Sian and Chrissie were looking sickened and Chris seemed to come over rather dreamy and dewy-eyed.

"What's going on?" I asked them, sitting down and wiping confetti off my bacon.

Sian and Chrissie both pointed to the teachers' table, both of them apparently too disgusted to speak, and when I looked there, it became clear to me why. Gold, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waiting for silence. The teachers on either side of her were looking stony-faced. From where I sat, I could just about see a muscle going in Professor Darbus' cheek. Triphorm looked as though someone had just fed her a large amount of Skele-Gro.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Gold shouted. "And may I thank the fifty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all – and it doesn't end here!"

Gold clapped her hands and through the doors to the Entrance Hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however, for Gold had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Gold. "They will be roving round the school today delivering your Valentines! And the sun doesn't stop there! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Triphorm to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Winds knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than anyone I've ever met, the lucky duck!"

Professor Winds buried her face in her hands. Triphorm was looking as though the first person to ask her for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

"Please, Chris, tell me you weren't one of the fifty-six," said Chrissie as we left the Great Hall for our first lesson. Chris suddenly became very interested in searching for his timetable in his bag and didn't answer.

All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into our classes to deliver Valentines, to the annoyance of our teachers, and late that afternoon, as I and my fellow Lion-Hearts were walking upstairs for Charms, one of them caught up with me.

"Oy, you! Kiara Pride-Lander!" shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf, elbowing people out of the way to get to me.

Hot all over at the thought of being given a Valentine in front of a queue of first-years, I tried desperately to escape. The dwarf, however, cut his way through the crowd, by kicking people's shins, and reached me before I'd even gone two paces.

"I've got a musical message to deliver to Kiara Pride-Lander in person," he said, twanging his harp in a threatening sort of way.

" _Not here!"_ I hissed, trying to escape.

"Stay _still_!" grunted the dwarf, grabbing hold of my bag and pulling me back.

"Let me go!" I said, tugging.

With a loud ripping noise, my bag split in two. My books, wand, parchment and quill spilled onto the floor and my ink bottle smashed over the lot.

I scrambled around, trying to pick it all up before the dwarf started singing, causing something of a hold-up in the corridor.

"What's going on here?" said the cold, drawling voice of Dani Malty. I started stuffing everything feverishly into my ripped bag, desperate to get away before Malty could hear my musical Valentine.

"What's all this commotion?" said another familiar voice, as Perdy Fang arrived.

Losing my head, I tried to make a run for it, but then the dwarf seized me around the knees and brought me crashing to the floor.

"Right," he said, sitting on my ankles, "here is your singing Valentine:

" _Her eyes are as brown as the sunrise,_

 _She appears like a vision before my eyes._

 _She's the one I adore, who I would do anything for,_

 _The girl who stopped the Scarlet Lady."_

I would have given all the gold in Fauntrotts to evaporate on the spot. Trying valiantly to laugh along with everyone else, I got up, my feet numb with the weight of the dwarf, as Perdy did her best to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth.

"Off you go, off you go. The bell rang five minutes ago. Off to class, now," she said, shooing some of the younger students away. " _And_ you, Malty."

I glanced over and saw Malty stoop and snatch up something. Leering, she showed it to Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley, and I realised that she had got hold of Maliay's diary.

"Give that back," I said quietly.

"Wonder what Pride-Lander's wrote in this?" said Malty, who obviously hadn't noticed the year on the cover, and thought that she had my own personal diary. A hush fell over the onlookers. Kestrel Dawson was staring from the diary to me, terrified.

"Hand it over, Malty," said Perdy sternly.

"When I've had a look," said Malty, waving the diary tauntingly at me.

Perdy said, "As a school Prefect –" but I lost my temper. I pulled out my wand and shouted, _"Expelliarmus!"_ , and just as Triphorm had disarmed Gold, Malty found the diary shooting out of her hand into the air. Chrissie, grinning broadly, caught it.

"Kiara!" Perdy said loudly. "No magic in the corridors! I'll have to report this, you know!"

But I didn't care; I'd got one over on Malty, and that was worth five points from Lion-Heart any day. Malty was looking furious. Kestrel sped off to her class. Just as Malty was about to pass the class that Kestrel was in, she called back, "I don't think Pride-Lander liked your Valentine much, Rickers!"

Chris dashed away from us into Charms, his face burning. Snarling, Chrissie pulled out her wand, too, but I pulled her away. Chrissie didn't need to spend the whole of Charms belching slugs.

It wasn't until we had reached Professor Winds' class that I noticed something odd about Maliay's diary. All my other books were drenched in black ink. The diary, however, was as clean as it had been before the ink bottle had smashed all over it. I tried to point this out to Chrissie, but she was having trouble with her wand again; large purple bubbles were blossoming out of the end, and she wasn't much interested in anything else.

0000

I went to bed earlier than anyone else in my dormitory that night. This was partly because I was sick and tired of Tanya and Geri singing, _"Her eyes are as brown as the sunrise"_ , and partly because I wanted to examine Maliay's diary again, and I knew that Chrissie thought that I was wasting my time. Before I did any of this, however, I wrote a letter to my grandmother Sarabi.

 _Dear Grandmother Sarabi,_

 _I hope that you and Grandmother Sarafina are well. It's been some time now since I last wrote to you, so I thought that I would inform you of how things are here. The attacks have quietened down now since the double attack, and Dani Malty is definitely NOT the heir of Snake-Eyes. Don't ask me how I know, I just do. Anyhoo, I discovered a diary belonging to a D. Maliay, which didn't have anything written in it, which Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I thought odd. We looked to see if anything had been written in invisible ink, and Chris thought that the writing would be invisible, so he pulled out a Revealer to see if any writing would appear, but nothing did. But earlier today, I got my bag split under rather mortifying circumstances, and although all my other books got splashed with ink, the diary didn't. So I am now going to take a closer look at it._

 _I miss you, and give Grandmother Sarafina my love as always._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Kiara_

After I had finished writing this letter, I put it on my bedside cabinet and picked up the diary again on my four-poster and flicked through the blank pages, not one of which had a trace of black ink on it. Then I pulled a new bottle out of my bedside cabinet, dipped my quill into it and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary.

The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second, and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished. I got really excited at this, so I loaded up my quill a second time and wrote, "My name is Kiara Pride-Lander."

The words shone momentarily on the page and then they too sank without a trace. Then at last, something happened.

Oozing back out of the page, in my very own ink, came words I had never written.

" _Hello, Kiara Pride-Lander. My name is Dizra Maliay. How did you come by my diary?"_

These words faded away too, but not before I had started to scribble back.

"Someone tried to flush it down a toilet."

I waited for Maliay's reply.

" _Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew there would be those who would not want this diary to be read."_

"What do you mean?" I scrawled, blotting the page in my excitement.

" _I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things which were covered up. Things which happened at Dragon Mort Magical Academy."_

"That's where I am now," I wrote quickly. "I'm at Dragon Mort and horrible stuff's been happening. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Mysteries?"

" _Of course I know about the Chamber of Mysteries. In my day, they told us that it was a legend, that it did not exist; but this was a lie. In my sixth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who had opened the Chamber and she was expelled. But the Headmistress, Professor Dipper, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Dragon Mort, forbade me not to tell the truth. A story was given out that the boy had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned."_

I nearly upset my ink bottle in my hurry to write back.

"It's happening again now. There have been attacks and no one seems to know who's behind them. Who was it last time?"

" _I can show you, if you like,"_ came Maliay's reply. _"You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught her."_

I hesitated, my quill suspended over the diary. I didn't know what Maliay meant; how could she take me inside her own memory? I glanced nervously at the door to the dormitory, which was growing dark. When I looked back at the diary, I saw words forming.

" _Let me show you."_

I paused for a fraction of a second and then I wrote two letters.

"OK."

The pages of the diary began to blow as though they were caught in a high wind, stopping halfway through the month of June. Mouth hanging wide open, I saw the little square for June the thirteenth turn into a minuscule television screen. My hands were trembling slightly as I raised the book to press my eye against the little window, and before I knew what was happening, I was tilting forwards – I mean, I knew a good book could draw you in, but that was ridiculous! Anyhoo, the window was widening, I felt my body leave my bed and I was pitched headfirst through the opening in the page, into a whirl of colour and shadow.

I felt my feet hit solid ground, and I stood up, shaking, as the blurred shapes came suddenly into focus.

I knew immediately where I was. The circular room with the sleeping portraits was Crighton's office – but it wasn't Crighton who was sitting behind the desk. A wizened, frail-looking witch, with white hair tied up in a ponytail which she had moved over her left shoulder, was reading a letter by candlelight. I had never seen this woman before this moment which I am writing about, that's for sure.

"I'm sorry," I said shakily. "I didn't mean to butt in …"

But the witch didn't look up. She continued to read, frowning slightly. I drew nearer to her desk and stammered, "Er – I'll just go, shall I?"

Still the witch ignored me. She didn't even seem to have heard me. Thinking that the witch might be deaf, I raised my voice. "Sorry I disturbed you, I'll go now," I half-shouted.

The witch folded up the letter with a sigh, stood up, walked past me without glancing at me and went to draw the curtains at her window.

The sky outside was ruby red; it seemed to be sunset. The witch went back to her desk, sat down and twiddled her thumbs, watching the door.

I looked around the office. No Wawes the phoenix; no whirring silver contraptions; no drawings from Crighton's children and no newspaper clippings about her family. And that's when it hit me; this was Dragon Mort as Maliay had known it, meaning that this unknown witch was Headmistress, not Crighton, and I, Kiara, was little more than a phantom, completely invisible to the people of fifty years ago – it's a few more decades than fifty years ago now, but this was 2006, so shut up, suck it up and move on, as everyone else should.

There was a knock on the office door.

"Enter," said the old witch in a feeble voice.

A girl of around sixteen entered, and I don't know if it was me or if the memory had got a little more shadowy, but I couldn't see her face; but what I do know is that she had a glinting silver Prefect's badge on her chest, and that her hair was golden, curly and of waist-length. She was also much taller than me. But don't worry, though, for I saw her face clearly a few months after this, but we'll get to that later.

"Ah, Maliay," said the Headmistress.

"You wished to see me, Professor Dipper?" said Maliay. She looked nervous.

"Sit down," said Dipper. "I've just been reading the letter you sent me."

"Oh," said Maliay. She sat down, gripping her hands together very tightly.

"My dear girl," said Dipper kindly, "I cannot possibly let you stay here at school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"

"No," said Maliay at once, "I'd much rather stay at Dragon Mort than go back to that – to that –"

"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" said Dipper curiously.

"Yes, ma'am," said Maliay. "Muggle mother, wizard father."

"And are both your parents –?"

"My mother gave birth to me at the orphanage, and ran off a few days later. I don't know if she's alive or not now, but I always grew up in the orphanage. My father came and saw me as my mother lay sleeping one night; he died just a few hours after naming me – they told me; Dizra after my mother and her surname."

Dipper clicked her tongue sympathetically.

"The thing is, Dizra," she sighed, "is that special circumstances might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances …"

"You mean all these attacks, ma'am?" said Maliay, and my heart leapt, so I moved closer to the desk, for I didn't want to miss anything that was said.

"Precisely," said the Headmistress. "My dear girl, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in the light of the recent tragedy … the death of that poor little boy … You will be safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even talking about closing the school down. We are no nearer locating the – er – source of all this unpleasantness …"

I heard Maliay gasp, and I could tell from that that her eyes had widened.

"Ma'am – if the person was caught – if it all stopped …"

"What do you mean?" said Dipper, with a squeak in her voice, sitting up in her chair. "Maliay, do you know something about these attacks?"

"No, ma'am," said Maliay quickly.

But I was sure that was the same sort of "no" that I myself had given Crighton.

Dipper sank back, looking faintly disappointed.

"You may go, Dizra …"

Maliay slid off her chair and slumped out of the room. I followed her.

Down a straight line of long stairs we went, emerging just in front of the glass elevator in the dark corridor. Maliay stopped and so did I. I watched Maliay closely, and I could tell that she was doing some serious thinking. She was biting her lip, her forehead furrowed.

Then, as though she had suddenly reached a decision, she hurried off, with me gliding noiselessly behind her. we didn't see another person until we reached the Entrance Hall, when a tall, thin woman with long, sweeping caramel brown hair called to Maliay from the marble staircase.

"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Dizra?"

I gaped at the witch. She was none other than a fifty-year-younger Crighton; and Sian was right, she really hadn't changed that much. The only noticeable changes that I could make out were that her hair was not streaked with silver and there were no lines of aging on her face.

"I had to see the Headmistress, ma'am," said Maliay, "and try to see if I could stop the attacks from happening …"

She had said too much. Crighton looked at her deeply, and she gave her a piercing look that I knew only too well; it was the look she gave that made me feel as though I was being X-rayed.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me, Maliay?"

"No, ma'am. Nothing," said Maliay quickly.

"Well, hurry of to bed," said Crighton. "Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since …"

She sighed heavily, bade Maliay goodnight and strode off. Maliay watched her out of sight and then, moving quickly, she headed straight down the stone steps to the dungeons, with me in hot pursuit.

But to my disappointment, Maliay led me not into a hidden passageway or a secret tunnel, but the very dungeon in which I had Potions with Triphorm. The torches hadn't been lit, and when Maliay pushed the door almost closed, I could only just see Maliay who was stood stock-still by the door, watching the passage outside.

It felt to me that we had been standing there for at least and hour. All I could see was the body and golden head of Maliay at the door, staring through the crack, waiting like a statue. When I had stopped feeling expectant and tense, I started wishing that I could return to the present, when I heard something move beyond the door.

Someone was creeping along the passage. I heard whoever it was pass the dungeon where me and Maliay were hidden. Maliay, quiet as a shadow, edged through the door and followed, with me tiptoeing behind her, altogether forgetting that I was couldn't be heard.

For about five minutes we followed the footsteps, until Maliay stopped suddenly, her head inclined in the direction of a new voice. I heard a door creak open, and then someone speaking in a hoarse whisper.

"C'mon … gotta get yeh outta here … c'mon now … in the box …"

There was something very familiar to me about that voice.

Maliay suddenly jumped around the corner. I stepped out behind her. I could just see the outlines of a huge girl who was crouching in front of an open door, a very large box next to it.

"Evening, Wickes," said Maliay sharply.

The girl slammed the door and stood up.

"What yer doin' down here, Dizra?"

Maliay stepped closer.

"It's all over," she said. "I'm going to have to turn you in, Wickes. They're talking about closing Dragon Mort if the attacks don't stop."

"What d'yeh –?"

"I don't think you meant it to kill anyone, but monsters don't make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise –"

"It never killed anyone!" said the large girl, backing against the closed door. From behind her, I could hear a funny rustling and clicking.

"Come on, Wickes," said Maliay, moving yet closer. "The dead boy's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Dragon Mort can do is make sure that the thing that killed their son is slaughtered …"

"It wasn' her!" roared the girl, her voice echoing in the dark passage. "She wouldn'! She never!"

"Stand aside," said Maliay, drawing out her wand.

Her spell hit the corridor with a sudden flaming light. The door behind the large girl flew open with some force it knocked her into the wall opposite. And out of it came something that made me let out a long, piercing scream that no one but me could hear.

A vast, low-slung, hairy body and a tangle of black legs, a gleam of many eyes and razor-sharp pincers – Maliay raised her wand again, but she was too late. The thing bowled her over as it scuttled away, tearing up the corridor and out of sight. Maliay scrambled to her feet, looking after it; she raised her wand, but the large girl leapt on her, seized her wand and threw her back down, yelling, "NOOOOOOO!"

The scene whirled, the darkness became complete and I felt myself falling and, with a crash, I landed spread-eagled on my four-poster in the Lion-Heart dormitory, Maliay's diary lying open on my stomach, trembling. A cold sweat was running down my forehead and back, and I was gasping for breath.

Before I had time to regain my breath, the dormitory door opened and Sian and Chrissie came in.

"There you are," said Chrissie.

"We've been wondering where you were," said Sian.

I sat up, still sweating and shaking.

"Kiara, what is it?" said Sian, sitting on my bed and looking at me with deep concern.

"You're not ill, are you?" said Chrissie.

I took a few deep breaths and tried to speak, but no matter how hard I tried, no noise came out.

"We can't help you if you don't tell us what's wrong, Kiara," said Sian kindly to me. "I mean, we are your friends, after all. You can tell us anything, anything at all. Well, not Chrissie. You see Kiara; she doesn't understand things like I do."

"Hey," Chrissie glared.

Sian gave Chrissie a look that clearly said, "Really?" Chrissie remained silent for a few moments before she nodded her head in assent, and then hung it. Giving a satisfied smile to Chrissie, Sian turned back to me.

"Come on, Kiara, out with it. We're your friends, and you know as well as we do that we won't judge you," said Sian knowingly.

I took a few deep breaths before I said."Sian, Chrissie, it was Mina. Mina opened the Chamber of Mysteries fifty years ago."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **Cornelia Sweets**

 **KIARA**

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I had always known that Mina had an unfortunate liking for large and monstrous creatures. After all, as you, my fellow readers will do well to remember, that during our first year at Dragon Mort, Mina had tried to raise a dragon in her little wooden house, and it would be a long time before Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I forgot the giant, three-headed cat she'd christened "Cutesy". And if, as a girl, Mina had heard that a monster was hidden somewhere in the castle, I was sure she'd have gone to any lengths for a glimpse of it. She'd probably thought it was a shame that the monster had been cooped up so long, and thought it deserved the chance to stretch its many legs; I could just imagine the thirteen year-old Mina trying to fit a lead and chain on it. But I was equally certain that Mina would never have meant it to kill anybody.

The morning that followed me looking into the diary, Sian, Chrissie and I met Chris just before breakfast and I wanted to tell them the full story, but not with this many people in the room. Besides, it was too late for me to enter into particulars the other night. I brought the diary down with me.

"Hmmm … I'm guessing there's some sort of powerful magic around this …" Sian speculated. "Come … we need to take a closer look at this …"

"Where are we going?" Chrissie asked.

"To my laboratory," Sian said simply and, going to a portrait that reached the floor to the left of the portrait hole, she pushed a button at the bottom of it, which spun halfway round to reveal a spiral stone staircase leading downwards.

"Come on, then," Sian said, leading the way. We followed her down a long set of stone steps until we reached the bottom, where we saw a lot of electronic gear that had a lot of magical properties put in them so that they would work at the school. Desks stood on the left and the right, filled with potion phials, books, and sheets of creatures and posted all over the walls were photographs of all the evidence that Sian had been collecting over the past few months. On the wall dead ahead of us was a large computer, which Sian walked up to.

"Computer on!" Sian said, and the computer came on, and showed us a familiar face that me, Chris and Chrissie hadn't seen since the summer holidays.

"Wayde!" Chris, Chrissie and I shouted simultaneously in joyous greeting.

"Hey, guys!" Wayde shouted joyously back to us.

"Wayde, I need your help," Sian said, drawing Wayde's attention back to her.

"What can I do you for this time, S.D.?"

"I need you to scan this diary," said Sian, taking the diary from me and showing it to Wayde. "Can you have a look at it for us? It's just that it drew Kiara into the diary and showed her a memory last night, so we need to know what magic is behind it, and if it's safe to use."

"Sure. Put it here," Wayde said as a scanning panel slid forward on the right. Sian placed the diary on the panel and stepped back.

"Scan processing," Wayde said to us. We had to wait a few minutes, and then we got a result.

"There is some powerful magic in this diary, Sian …"

"I knew it!" Sian yelled, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"It's odd, though. Whatever magic this is, it's like nothing I've ever seen before, for it's very dark and I can't get an explanation up of what this magic is." There'll be more on this in the sixth year, readers, so don't worry. Everything will be come clear to you eventually, you'll see.

"Can you at least tell us the first name of the person who owned it, Wayde?" Chrissie asked him.

Before Wayde could answer her, I said, "Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you guys. That diary belonged to Dizra Maliay."

Chris and Chrissie looked confused, but Sian gasped. Chris, Chrissie and I looked at Sian in shock, for she looked horrified; all the colour had drained from her face and she was looking at me with her eyes popping.

"What is it, Sian?" I asked her.

Sian shook her head and said, "I should have known it was hers. After all, Ma told me some things about Dizra Maliay …"

"What things, Sian?" Chris asked her.

"Yeah, tell us," said Chrissie. She, Chris and I were looking at Sian expectantly. Sian took a few deep breaths, and then told us.

"As you three know, Ma was a Transfiguration teacher here, and the reason I'm telling you this is because Maliay was one of her students. Anyhoo, Ma never really trusted her, and she told me she should have kept a closer eye on the girl than she did."

"Why?" I asked.

"Well," Sian replied, "from what I got from Ma, it seems that Maliay, even though she seemed perfectly trustworthy to the teachers' faces, was a bit of trouble behind their backs. So what I'm saying to you, Kiara, is this, that whatever happens, if you write anything down in this diary again, or if she shows you another memory, then be very careful, and don't trust everything she tells you, Ok?" Sian looked at me for a few moments until I nodded my head. She gave me a smile of relief, said "Good," to me, went to the computer, took the diary, said "Bye for now, Wayde," to him. The computer then turned off, and we went back upstairs to the common room and shut the laboratory door.

"So, do you think I should mistrust the memory she showed me last night then, Sian?" I asked her.

"Well, seeing as we don't know if Mina did or did not open the Chamber of Mysteries yet, we can't know that for sure. But what I do know is that you should be careful with Maliay, Kiara. _Very_ careful."

Just then, I heard a gasp behind me. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I looked at Kestrel Dawson, who had just come down from the girls' dormitories. She was incredibly thin and pale, and was looking at the diary with sheer terror.

"Is everything all right, sister?" Sian asked her kindly, but Kestrel didn't answer. She just kept looking at the diary in terror.

Sian turned to Chris, Chrissie and I, and whispered to us, "You three go on down to breakfast. I'll meet you there in a bit."

We nodded and left Sian alone with Kestrel.

 **SIAN**

"Wait for me here a moment, Kestrel," Sian said to her sister, as she rushed up to the Special dormitory for her sisters and Kiara, placed the diary in Kiara's bedside cabinet and rushed back to Kestrel.

"Come with me, sweetie," Sian said, taking her sister's hand.

"Why? Where are we going? I haven't done anything wrong, Sian, I _swear_ –" Kestrel said this quickly and nervously, looking scared and shaking.

"I know you haven't, Kestrel, but I want you to see Ma. Are you all right with that?" Sian asked her sister kindly. Kestrel slowly nodded her head and, holding her elder sister's hand tightly, followed Sian to her mother's office.

Down one corridor, then another, all the way to the second floor, into the glass elevator and to the Head's office Sian and Kestrel went. Once there, they stepped out of the elevator and Sian knocked on the door. A voice inside said "Enter," and Sian, telling Kestrel to stay there for a few moments, entered.

"Morning, Ma," Sian told her mother brightly, beaming. Crighton looked up in surprise and happiness; for Sian knew that her mother was always happy to see her, but she also knew that it was rare for her to see her mother very early in the morning, especially on a school day.

"Good morning, my darling," said Crighton in surprise, kissing her daughter on the cheek. "And what do I owe this very early pleasure?"

"If you please, Ma, I'd like you to see Kestrel, and before you say anything, I wouldn't come if it wasn't urgent."

Crighton nodded her head knowingly, said, "There is sense in what you say," then raised her head and called, "Come in, Kestrel!"

Sian kept looking at her mother as Kestrel entered the office, and saw her mother's look of happiness turn to one of the most deepest concern for her child.

"You see, Ma, this is why I want you to see her," said Sian.

"Yes, and you did right, as always, my darling," Crighton said, still looking at Kestrel. She got up, moved to the front of her desk with Sian right behind her and said kindly to Kestrel, "Is there anything wrong, my darling?"

Kestrel gulped a few times, and then said, "No, Ma. Nothing's wrong." But Sian and her mother knew she was lying, for Kestrel's eyes were popping and were darting all around the office and not bothering to look at either Sian or Crighton. But these two women were very wise and had experience in matters of these in the world, so they didn't tell Kestrel that she wasn't fooling them. Instead, Sian said to her:

"You know, Kestrel, we're always here to help you. The teachers, myself and Ma are always here if you need to tell us anything, anything at all."

Kestrel looked at Sian, who was smiling warmly, as was her mother behind her, who was nodding and smiling. Kestrel opened her mouth to say something, and Sian thought that they were going to get something out of her, but she was mistaken; for Kestrel said decisively, "There is nothing to tell. I'm sure." It was the same no that Sian had heard Kiara give her mother not so long ago.

Sian looked disappointed and began to say something, but her mother gave her a small warning look, before she turned to Kestrel and said, "Very well, dear you may go." And without saying another word, Kestrel turned on her heel and almost ran to the door, and was gone.

 **KESTREL**

Kestrel knew that Sian meant well, but she didn't want to get Sian or her mother mixed up in this. This was her problem, not Sian's, and Kestrel Dawson thought that she could handle it, which was the worst thing she could have done; for deep down, Kestrel did want to tell Sian, for she knew that Sian cared enough about her to help her, but she knew what Sian and her mother were like, and didn't want them to worry about all the attacks that were happening.

" _That you've been causing, you mean?"_ a snide little voice inside her head said.

"No, that's not true!" Kestrel gasped, the tears springing to her eyes, as she ran and hid in a corner.

" _Ah, but we both know what you are capable of doing right now, don't we?"_ the snide voice said evilly, as Kestrel cried and cried her poor little heart out.

She knew that her personality was changing, could feel it all the time. She was even acting coldly towards Beth, which wasn't fair, for she liked Beth and was very close to her; and besides that, there was also the point that Beth and the rest of her family wanted to help her, too; but she was afraid that if she told any of them, they'd be horrified and disgusted at what she'd done, and would cast her out. the very thought of this made her feel sick to the very core.

When she had got it all out of her system, Kestrel got to her feet, dried her eyes and walked to breakfast.

 **SIAN**

When she was gone, Sian turned to her mother and said, "She's keeping something from us, Ma."

"Indeed she is, my darling." Sian looked at her mother and saw that the twinkle in her eyes had gone, and a worried look had passed over her features.

Sian sighed and said, "What must I do, Ma?" It was unusual for Sian to ask her mother for wisdom and guidance, but at times, even Sian Dawson needed a guiding arm. "I mean, I know I don't ask for advice often, but now I need it, for I don't know what to do. Help me, Ma. Please, I need you."

"I know you do, my darling," Crighton told her daughter reassuringly, "and all I'm going to say is this. Watch Kestrel and be a friend to her as well as a sister, for she desperately needs a friend right now, and I take it Bethany doesn't know what is wrong with her, either, does she?"

"No, Ma. From what I can get from her, Beth says that Kestrel has become distant from her, as well as cold and secretive. Would you like me to do anything else, Ma?"

"No, just do as I have asked. And now, I think we both need to get some food down us, don't you?" Crighton asked, and Sian gave a small chuckle.

 **KIARA**

I half-wished I hadn't found out how to work Maliay's diary. Again and again Chris, Sian and Chrissie made me recount what I saw, until I was heavily sick of telling them and sick of the long, circular conversations that followed.

"From what Ma told me of her, Maliay _might_ have got the wrong person," said Sian. "After all, maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people …"

"How many monsters d'you think this place can hold?" Chrissie asked dully.

"We always knew Mina was expelled," I said miserably. "And the attacks must've stopped after Mina was kicked out. Otherwise, Maliay wouldn't have got her award."

Chris tried a different look.

"Maliay _does_ sound like Ma – who asked her to grass on Mina, anyway?"

"The monster had _killed_ someone, Rickers," said Sian.

"And Maliay was going to go back to some Muggle orphanage if they closed Dragon Mort," I said. "I don't blame her for wanting to stay here …"

"Oh, don't start feeling sorry for her, Kiara," Sian moaned, exasperatedly. Chris, Chrissie and I looked at her in surprise as she looked at us, shocked at what she had just said. But she quickly shrugged it off, and said, "I'm just saying that maybe Maliay isn't all she seems to be, you know?" We all agreed that there was something in what Sian said, and went back to thinking in silence again.

Chris bit his lip, then said tentatively, "You met Mina down Dark Avenue, didn't you, Kiara?"

"She was buying a Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent," I said quickly.

The four of us fell silent again. Then Sian voiced the knottiest remark and question of all in a hesitant voice: "Look, Mina's our friend. Do you think we should go and ask her about it all?"

"Oh, yeah, and that'd be a cheerful visit, wouldn't it?" said Chrissie. "Hello, Mina. Tell us; have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?"

We laughed a lot at this for some time, and after the laughter died, we discussed for quite a bit of time what was to be done, and in the end we all agreed that we wouldn't say anything to Mina unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, we became hopeful that we would never need to talk to Mina about why she had been expelled. Almost four months had passed since Justine and Nearly Headless Nicola had been Petrified, and nearly everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good. And things were beginning to look up for me again: Weeves had finally got bored of her _"Oh Prider, you rotter"_ song, Emily Mack asked me quite politely to pass her a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology, and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a large and raucous party in Greenhouse Three. This made Spud incredibly happy.

"The moment they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature," he told me. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the hospital wing."

But back to what I said before about Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I not going to see Mina _unless there was another attack_ , and _things looking up for me again_? Well, I'm afraid to say, that I was foolishly wishful thinking those things, for the peace that was starting to rebuild itself around our school was about to be disrupted in just a matter of weeks.

0000

We second-years were given something new to think about during our Easter holidays. The time had come to choose our subjects for the third year, a matter that Sian, at least, took very seriously.

"It could affect our whole future," she told me, Chris and Chrissie, as we poured over lists of new subjects, marking them with ticks – and what she said about them affecting our futures was kind of true, but more on that in later years.

"I want to give up Potions," I said.

"We can't," said Chrissie gloomily. "We keep all our old subjects –"

"There is that," Sian interrupted Chrissie, "but Muggle Studies has become compulsory to all students when they go to third year, because after the war between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort, the Ministry of Magic decided that it was important that we wizards become more Muggle efficient and equipped, and had a better understanding of how some stuff in the Muggle world works."

"Great. Another class to take. That is _just_ what I needed!" said Chrissie sarcastically.

"Well, I find it fascinating to learn more about Muggles, since we are in an age which in the Muggle world is designed by their technology," said Sian matter-of-factly.

"Anyway, if we didn't have to keep all our old subjects, I would've ditched Defence Against the Dark Arts," Chrissie told us.

"But that's very important!" said Sian, shocked.

"Sian, have you _seen_ the way Gold teaches us?" Chrissie asked her. Me and her looked at Sian as she sat in thought for a few moments. At last she said, "You're right, Chrissie. I mean, all we've really learnt from her is to not set pixies loose."

"Wait, _you_ agree with _Chrissie_?" I said, surprised at this. Sian and Chrissie then looked at other in amazement, for they never agreed on anything. It was a weird moment for us and we three girls couldn't find any way to break the tension. Fortunately though, we had Chris on board.

"Oh, come on, now. She's not that bad," he said. At this, Sian, Chrissie and I all groaned. "What?" he said, looking at us confusedly, but as Sian, Chrissie and I had already said too much on this subject to him already, we decided to let it go.

But getting back to what was going on, Nikita Bore had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in her family, all giving her different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, she sat reading the subject lists with her tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than Study of Ancient Runes. Dena Wright, who, a bit like me, had grown up with Muggles – for, of course, I had been brought up with a witch _and_ a Muggle – ended up closing her eyes and jabbing her wand at the list, and then picking the subjects it landed on. Sian took nobody's advice apart from her mother's, who, she told us, had told her that seeing as she was brilliant at practically everything anyway, should just choose what she liked the look of and see where it took her. so she signed up for everything.

Oh, and that reminds me about the letter because of Nikita. I'm sorry I haven't mentioned this until now, but a lot has happened and I've had to write it all down. Anyway, I received a letter from my grandmother Sarabi a few days after I had seen the memory that Maliay showed me. Here's what she wrote:

 _My dear Kiara,_

 _Thank you for your last letter. This is only going to be short, because of the little that you wrote me, so I'll get straight to it. It's good to know that Danielle Malty isn't the heir of Snake-Eyes, but I do not think that this means that the monster is back in hibernation, so look after yourself no matter what happens and make sure you try to stay out of trouble, for I do not want you to be expelled, as does Crighton. But back to the monster, I think that the person behind it is missing something, for they wouldn't just stop at this point. The person in question would want to make sure that the job was done, and done well and rightly at that. Also, let me know as soon as you can what you've discovered about the diary. I want to hear all about it._

 _Love you and miss you always._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Grandmother Sarabi_

 _P.S.: You're going to have to choose some new classes for yourself soon, but don't worry, I'm not going to tell you which classes you should pick for yourself. Just follow your heart and your gut and choose what you like the look of. Good luck, my darling!_

I was glad that my grandmother didn't tell me what I should do, for I really didn't know what to pick. Not that I didn't get any guidance, mind: Perdy Fang was eager to share her experience with me.

"Depends where you want to _go_ , Kiara," she said. "It's never too early to think about the future, so I'd recommend Divination. If you're more of an outdoors type, on the other hand, go for Care of Magical Creatures. Play to your strengths, Kiara."

But the only thing that I felt really good at was Quidditch. In the end, I chose the same subjects as Chris and Chrissie (well almost, for Chris didn't take Divination like me and Chrissie did, but went with Arithmancy and the Study of Ancient Runes, like Sian), feeling that if I was rubbish at them, at least I would have some people friendly to help me.

Lion-Heart's next Quidditch match (which we thought we were going to play) was against Badger-Stripes. Cane was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that I barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. However, the training sessions were getting better and better, or at least drier, and the evening before the match on Saturday 11th 2006, I went up to my dormitory to drop off my broomstick, feeling that Lion-Heart's chances for the Quidditch Cup had never been better.

But my cheerful mood didn't last very long. At the top of the stairs to the dormitory, I met Nikita Bore, who was looking frantic.

"Kiara, Beth couldn't find Kestrel anywhere – she found her about five minutes ago, just so you know – so I came to find her here – I don't know who did it. I just found –"

Watching me fearfully, Nikita pushed open the door.

The contents of my trunk had been thrown everywhere. My cloak lay ripped on the floor. The bedclothes had been pulled off my four-poster and the drawer had been pulled out of my bedside cabinet, the contents strewn over the mattress. I walked over to the bed, open-mouthed, treading on a few pages of _Travelling with Trolls_.

Sian, Chrissie, Beth and Kestrel walked in just as I was pulling the blankets back onto my bed. Beth gave a loud whistle. I saw that Kestrel was looking quite normal, but she was a bit jumpy at what she saw, but Beth caught my attention again.

"What happened here, Kiara?"

"No idea," I said. But Sian and Chrissie were examining my uniform. All the pockets were hanging out.

"Someone's been looking for something," said Chrissie. "Is there anything missing?"

I started to pick up all my things and throw them into my trunk. It was only as I threw Gold's last book back into it that I realised what wasn't there.

"Maliay's diary's gone," I said in an undertone to Sian and Chrissie.

" _What?"_

I jerked my head towards the dormitory door and Sian and Chrissie followed me out. we hurried back down to the Lion-Heart common room, which was half-empty, and joined Chris, who was sitting alone, reading a book about dragons.

Chris looked aghast at the news, but it was Sian who spoke first.

"But – only a Lion-Heart could have stolen – nobody else knows our password …"

"Exactly," I said.

0000

We woke the next day to brilliant sunshine, and a light, refreshing breeze.

"Perfect Quidditch conditions!" said Cane enthusiastically at the Lion-Heart table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs. "Kiara, buck up in there. You need a decent breakfast."

I had been staring down at the packed Lion-Heart table, wondering if the new owner of Maliay's diary was right in front of my eyes (which they were, although I didn't know it then). Sian had been urging me to report the robbery, but I didn't like that idea much. I'd have to tell a teacher all about the diary and how it worked; and how many people knew why Mina had been expelled fifty years ago? I didn't want to be the one who brought it all up again.

As I left the Great Hall with Chris, Sian and Chrissie to go and collect my Quidditch things, another very serious was added to my growing list of troubles. I had just set foot on the marble staircase when I heard it yet again: _"Kill this time …let me rip … tear …"_

I shouted aloud and Chris, Sian and Chrissie jumped away from me in alarm.

"The voice!" I said, looking over my shoulder. "I just heard it again – didn't you?"

Chris and Chrissie shook their heads, wide-eyed. Sian, however, clapped a hand to her forehead.

"Kiara – I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!"

And she sprinted away up the stairs.

"What does she understand?" I said distractedly, still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.

"Loads more than I do," said Chris, shaking his head.

"But why's she got to go to the library?"

"Because that's what Sian does," said Chrissie, shrugging. "When in doubt, go to the library.

 **SIAN**

Sian dashed up the stairs, not caring if she hit anyone or anything until she reached the library. She couldn't believe she'd been so slow to miss this one, for she finally understood why Kiara could hear the voice and no one else could, and now all she had to do was to find the answers; for she suspected, but wouldn't know for sure until she found the answer.

As she reached the library, she slowed her pace down, walking as steadily as she could, but with a little bit of a run in her step. She entered the library and walked right to the section called Magical Creatures. She searched the shelves, looking up and down, up and down.

" _Come on, come on, come on!"_ she muttered under her breath in angst. And then she seemed to find what she was looking for, for she went, "Aha! Here it is, at last!" and she pulled out a very old book called _Moste Dangerous Magickal Creatures_ , took it over to a table and started to rifle through it. Once she had found the page she wanted, she quickly took out a pad and started to write down instructions for Kiara, Chris and Chrissie, just in case …

Once Sian had finished her work, she replaced the library book, tore the page of her pad off and rolled it into a ball and kept it in her hand, and hurried out of there, hoping that there was still time for her to get to the match on time. But just as she was turning a corner, she was stopped by a strange noise, a noise that chilled her very heart.

A soft, strange sort of hissing was close by her, a hissing that was unnerving. Sian tried to steady her breath and stay calm; for she had experience to know with creatures like these that they could smell fear. She gulped several times, and tried not to panic, like Chrissie would if she was in Sian's shoes.

"Note to self: Don't go anywhere around the school by yourself anymore. It's not worth it," Sian whispered to herself as the hissing got louder and louder, and Sian could feel her heartbeat speed up. And then, she heard the hissing so close by that she could feel that it was just behind the corner behind her.

Sian gulped and, with a slight trembling hand, reached into her bag that she carried round with her everywhere now, because of a mirror that her mother had given her just after the first attack had happened, pulled it out and held it over her shoulder, looking at what was behind her; and she saw the slightest bit of a large reptilian creature.

Sian spun round on the spot, intending to attack the creature, but she was too slow; for the creature swung its long tail out, grabbed her legs, and pulled Sian towards it. She struggled as hard as she could and put up a good fight, but it was no good. The creature pulled Sian behind a corner. There were a few hisses … then screams … and then the kind of stabbing, plunging sound you hear on wildlife documentaries when a predator attacks its prey, and then … silence, as Sian's hand fell to the floor and the mirror rolled out of her hand …

But the monster didn't go. It heard footsteps, and so it stealthily waited … waited for its next victim to appear …

 **DEIDRE**

Deidre Darbus was in her office, putting her cloak on and getting ready to go and watch the match, when she heard running footsteps coming to her door. Puzzled, she opened it and saw a third-year Badger-Stripe girl, who looked scared and rather out of breath.

"What are you doing here?" she asked the girl. "Why aren't you down at the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the school?"

"If you please follow me, ma'am, I've been asked by Mr Pincer to come and get you," said the girl hurriedly, "for something has happened."

Deidre looked deeply into the girl's face and knew that she was telling the truth; and next came a feeling of pure terror as she looked at the girl's pale face. "What has happened?" she said quickly, stepping out of her office and shutting the door behind her with a snap.

"There's been another double attack, ma'am, just outside of the library" said the girl, jumping from one foot to the other in her anxiety. This caught Deidre's attention.

"Lead the way," said Deidre, and she and the girl hurried off towards the library, where two people lay, Petrified.

The first Deidre knew was a Prefect, but it was the girl lying next to him that made her gasp and step back in alarm; for lying stock-still, looking as though she was dead was –

"The eldest Dawson girl!" Deidre breathed, shock running through her, mixed with sadness; for she and the eldest Dawson girl had always had a rather mutual respect for each other, and she had always been one of Deidre's most favourite students, who she was hopeful would do well and always had a lot of potential. Taking a few deep breaths, she pulled out a token for the elevator to take the girl to the Headmistress' office, and giving it to the girl, said to her, "Here. Take this to the glass elevator on the second floor, fly it to the Headmistress' office and give her a message from me, saying, "Professor Darbus wants you to meet her by the hospital wing." Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, ma'am," the girl nodded. Then she disappeared round the corner, and Deidre walked over to where Sian was, when she slipped on something. She stopped herself quickly, looked down and saw a silver mirror. She picked it up, looked at it and thought that this must have been important to the eldest Dawson girl, and would therefore take it with her to the hospital wing and ask Crighton, Pride-Lander, Rickers and the second eldest Dawson girl about it. She took one last look at the eldest Dawson girl, and then went back to her office to get a scroll of the new school announcements that Susan had made just in case another attack like this happened and a megaphone. She knew the students wouldn't like what was coming, but what choice did she have?

 **KIARA**

While Sian was dashing up the stairs to the library, I was standing irresolute, trying to catch the voice again, but people were now emerging from the Great Hall behind me, talking loudly and exiting through the front doors on their way to the Quidditch pitch.

"You'd better get moving," said Chris. "It's almost eleven – the match."

I raced up to Lion-Heart Tower, collected my Scoot-Zoomer Two Thousand and joined the large crowd swarming across the grounds, but my mind was still in the castle, along with the bodiless voice, and as I pulled on my scarlet Quidditch uniform in the changing rooms, my only comfort was that everyone – apart from Sian, although I didn't know that then – was now outside to watch the game.

The teams walked onto the pitch to tumultuous applause. Olivia Cane took off for a warm-up flight around the goalposts as Sir Turner released the balls. The Badger-Stripes, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics.

I was just mounting my broom when Professor Darbus came half-marching, half-running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

I remember the feeling of my heart dropping like a stone at that moment in time.

"This match has been cancelled," Professor Darbus called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts from the crowd. Olivia Cane, looking devastated, landed and ran towards Professor Darbus without getting off her broomstick.

"But Professor!" Cane shouted. "We've got to play … the cup … _Lion-Heart_ …"

Professor Darbus ignored her and continued to shout through the megaphone: "All students are to make their way back to the house common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned me over to her.

"Pride-Lander, I think you'd better come with me …"

Wondering what she could possibly suspect me off this time, I saw Chris and Chrissie detach themselves from the complaining crowd; they came running up to us as we set off towards the castle. To my surprise, Professor Darbus didn't object.

"Yes, perhaps you'd better come too, Dawson, Rickers. We won't bring Kestrel Dawson; she won't have the heart for it. I've left her twin sister, Bethany, with her. I just hope the Headmistress got my message …"

Some of the students swarming around us were grumbling about the match being cancelled, others looked worried. Chris, Chrissie and I followed Professor Darbus back into the school and up the marble staircase. But we weren't taken to anybody's office this time.

"This will be a bit of a shock," said Professor Darbus in a surprisingly gentle voice as we approached the hospital wing. "There has been an attack – another _double attack_ … goodness knows if the Headmistress knows yet …"

Crighton just caught up with us at this point.

"Deidre, I got your message," Crighton said, looking worried. "What's going on?"

"You'll soon see, Susan," said Professor Darbus solemnly.

My insides did a horrible somersault as Professor Darbus opened the door to the hospital wing and Chris, Chrissie, Crighton and I entered.

Matron was bending over a fifth-year boy with curly hair. I recognised him as the Raven-Wing me, Sian and Chrissie had accidentally asked for directions to the Snake-Eyes common room. And on the bed next to him was –

" _Sian!"_ Chris, Chrissie and Crighton groaned simultaneously.

Sian lay utterly still, her eyes open and glassy, with dark, black rings surrounding them.

"They were found near the library," said Professor Darbus. "I don't suppose any of you could explain this? It was found on the floor next to them …"

She was holding up a small, circular mirror.

Chris, Chrissie and I shook our heads as we stared at Sian. Crighton however, spoke up.

"I gave it to her," she said hoarsely. I looked around, surprised, for Crighton looked different to me; her eyes were brimming with tears, the twinkle in them gone, and she was looking at Sian as if she was the most precious thing she had on this earth. And it was at that precise moment that I understood how much Sian and her mother meant to each other. "I intended to make sure that Sian kept herself safe, just in case this happened. Oh, my Siany!" she sobbed, and sat down next to her daughter on the bed, put her head on Sian's and began to cry convulsively.

Professor Darbus, Chris, Chrissie and I looked at Crighton and Sian, all of us saddened by this. I heard Chris and Chrissie sobbing, too, and I could feel my throat begin to clog up. I had never lost a friend before that point, but even though I knew that Sian was alive, looking at her the way she was with her mother bending over her, it felt like she had. Professor Darbus eventually broke the silence.

"I will escort you back to Lion-Heart Tower," said Professor Darbus heavily to Chris, Chrissie and I. "I need to address the students in any case."

 **CRIGHTON**

As the others left, Crighton raised her head and, looking down at her eldest and most treasured child through tear-streaked eyes, couldn't believe what had happened to her. Sian looked as though she was dead, but Crighton knew that she wasn't. Besides, she couldn't believe that this had happened to Sian, for she thought that Sian would have been able to defend herself; but then again, she did give Sian the mirror.

She stroked Sian's face, looking always at it, as her other free hand went down Sian's body, till at last she reached Sian's fisted hand. Crighton was confused by this and wondered what Sian had been doing, so she carefully – with a bit of a struggle – got the piece of paper out from Sian's fist. Then Crighton wiped her eyes and began to read what Sian had written.

As she was reading, Crighton's saddened look quickly changed to excitement and then happiness. When she had finished reading, she looked down at her eldest daughter and kissed her on the forehead.

"Oh, my darling!" Crighton exclaimed, leaning back and stroking her daughter's face once more. "I'm so proud of you! You've actually done it! You've solved the mystery! I will keep this secret, and I will give Kiara, Chris and Chrissie the clues as how to finish this for good. I knew you could do it, so well done! And just so you know, you will be rewarded for this when you wake, so never fear, my darling girl!"

Then out of nowhere, a pendant appeared and dropped down on Sian's bed. It was big, black and had three spaces in it, that appeared to be filled with a smoky blackness, that wasn't a liquid, but it was swirling with amber-gold spots in it. Crighton gasped quickly, for she knew what it meant.

"Your Animal Spirit Pendant!" Crighton whispered, as she grabbed it and put it round her daughter's neck. It glowed for a moment, before it vanished. "I'll keep that secret, too!" Crighton whispered, chuckled slightly, kissed Sian's forehead and stroked her face one last time, before she left the dormitory.

 **KIARA**

"All students will return to their house common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."

We Lion-Hearts were packed inside the common room, listening to Professor Darbus in silence. She rolled up the parchment from which she had been reading and said in a somewhat choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."

She climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and some of the other Lion-Hearts started talking immediately.

"That's two Lion-Heart's down, not counting a Lion-Heart ghost, one Raven-Wing and one Badger-Stripe," said the Fang twins' friend, Leah Jones, counting on her fingers. "Haven't _any_ of the teachers noticed that the Snake-Eyes are all safe? Isn't it _obvious_ all this stuff's coming from Snake-Eyes? The _heir_ of Snake-Eyes, the _monster_ of Snake-Eyes – why don't they just chuck all the Snake-Eyes out?" she roared, to nods and scattered applause.

Perdy Fang was sitting in a chair behind Leah, but for once she didn't seem to make her voice heard. She was looking pale and stunned.

"Perdy's in shock," Geri told me quietly. "That Raven-Wing boy – Percy Freshwater – he's a Prefect. I don't think she thought the monster would dare attack a _Prefect_."

"It's not just that, though," Tanya put in, "there's Sian, too. And, well, who isn't shocked about that?"

But I was only half-listening. I didn't seem to be able to get rid of the picture of Sian, lying on the hospital bed as though she had been carved out of stone. And if the culprit wasn't caught soon, I was going to be looking at a lifetime back with my grandmothers. Dizra Maliay had turned Mina in because she was faced with the prospect of a Muggle orphanage if the school was closed. I knew exactly how she felt, for I didn't mind living with my grandmothers for the rest of my life, but I also didn't want Dragon Mort to close, either. Not to mention, the Smiths; and there's no more to be said on that account.

"What're we going to do?" said Chrissie quietly in my ear. "D'you think they suspect Mina?"

"We've got to go and talk to her," I said, making up my mind. "I can't believe it's her this time, but if she set the monster loose last time, she'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Mysteries, and that's a start."

"But Darbus said we've got to stay in our tower unless we're in class –" Chris began, but I interrupted him.

"I think," I said, more quietly still, "it's time to get my parent's old Cloak out again."

0000

I had inherited just one thing from my parents: a long and silvery Invisibility Cloak, which was stuck in a baton, and could only be used by pressing both hands over a gap in the baton to make myself invisible, or, alternatively by pressing the gap over the baton in one hand, and then the cloak would come tumbling out of the baton onto the floor(we took this action to get it out this time, though). It was our only chance of sneaking out of the school to visit Mina without anyone knowing about it. Chris, Chrissie and I went to bed at the usual time, waited until Beth and Kestrel had stopped discussing the Chamber of Mysteries – Kestrel somewhat half-heartedly – and had finally fallen asleep, then me and Chrissie got up, dressed again, met Chris in the common room, and then we threw the Cloak over ourselves.

The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors wasn't enjoyable. I had wandered the castle at night several times before my second year, but I had never seen it so crowded after sunset. Teachers, Prefects and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. Our Invisibility Cloak didn't stop us making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Chrissie stubbed her toe ten yards away from the spot where Triphorm was standing guard. Thankfully Triphorm sneezed at almost exactly the same moment Chrissie groaned. It was with relief that we reached the oak front doors and eased them open.

I remember that it was a clear, starry night. We hurried towards the lighted windows of Mina's house, and pulled off the Cloak only when we were right outside her front door.

Seconds after we had knocked, Mina flung the door open. We found ourselves face-to-face; with Mina aiming a cross bow at us, Gnasher the boarhound barking loudly behind her.

"Oh," she said, lowering the weapon and staring at us. "What're you three doin' here?"

"What's that for?" I said, nodding at crossbow as we stepped inside.

"Nothin' … nothin' …" Mina muttered. "I've bin expectin' … doesn' matter … sit down … I'll make tea …"

She hardly seemed to know what she was doing. She nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of her massive hand.

"Are you OK, Mina?" I said. "Did you hear about Sian?"

"Oh, I heard, all righ'," said Mina, a slight break in her voice.

She kept glancing nervously at the windows. She poured us large mugs of boiling water (she had forgotten to add tea bags) and was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate, when there was a loud knock on the door.

Mina dropped the fruitcake. Chris, Chrissie and I exchanged panic-stricken looks, and then we threw the Invisibility Cloak back over ourselves and retreated into a corner. Mina checked that we were hidden, seized her crossbow and flung open her door once more.

"Good evening, Mina."

It was Crighton. She entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second, very odd-looking woman.

The stranger was a short, plump woman with short grey hair and an anxious expression. She was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pin-striped suit with a skirt to match, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak and pointed purple boots. Under her arm she carried a lime-green witches' hat.

"That's Dad's boss!" Chrissie breathed. "Cornelia Sweets, the Minister of Magic!"

Me and Chris elbowed Chrissie to make her shut up.

Mina had gone pale and sweaty. She dropped into one of her chairs and looked from Crighton to Cornelia Sweets.

"Bad business, Mina," said Sweets, in rather clipped tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Bright-brains including a Muggle-born, and that includes the eldest daughter of the Headmistress. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

"I never," said Mina, looking imploringly at Crighton, "you know I never, Professor Crighton, ma'am …"

"I want it understood, Cornelia, that Mina has my full confidence," said Crighton, frowning at Sweets.

"Look, Susan," said Sweets, uncomfortably. "Mina's record is against her. ministry's got to do something – the school governors have been in touch."

"I tell you yet again, Cornelia, that taking Mina away will not help in the slightest," said Crighton. Her eyes were full of a fire I had never seen before.

"Look at it from my point of view," said Sweets, fidgeting with her witches' hat. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Mina, then she'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take her. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty –"

"Take me?" said Mina, who was trembling. "Take me where?"

"For a short stretch only," said Sweets, not looking at Mina. "Not a punishment, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology …"

"Not Azkaban?" said Mina.

Before Sweets could answer her, there was another rap on the door.

Crighton answered it. It was my turn for an elbow in the ribs from Chris and Chrissie this time: I'd let out an audible gasp.

Mrs Narissa Malty strode into Mina's hut, swathed in a long black travelling cloak, smiling a cold and rather satisfied smile. Gnasher started to growl.

"Already here, Sweets," she said approvingly. "Good, good …"

"What're you doin' here?" said Mina furiously. "Get outta my house!"

"My dear woman, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your – er – d'you call this a house?" said Narissa Malty, sneering as she looked around the small cabin. "I simply called at the school and was told that the Headmistress was here."

"And what exactly did you want with me, Narissa?" said Crighton. She spoke politely, but the fire was still blazing in her green eyes.

" _Dreadful thing_ , Crighton," said Mrs Malty lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, "but the governors feel its time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension – you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? And I believe that one of them was your eldest daughter, wasn't she? At this rate there'll be no more Bright-brains and Muggle-borns left at Dragon Mort, and we all know what an _awful_ loss that would be to the school."

"Oh, now, see here, Narissa," said Sweets, looking alarmed, "Crighton suspended … no, no … last thing we want right now …"

"The appointment – or suspension – of the Headmistress is a matter for the governors, Sweets," said Mrs Malty smoothly. "And as Crighton has failed to stop the attacks …"

"Now look, Narissa, if _Crighton_ can't stop them –" said Sweets, whose upper lip was sweating now. "I mean to say, who _can_?"

"That remains to be seen," said Mrs Malty with a nasty smile. "But as all twelve of us have voted …"

Mina leapt to her feet, her glossy, tied back hair falling loose and starting to frizz as it grazed the ceiling.

"An' how many did yeh have ter threaten and blackmail before they agreed, Malty, eh?" she roared.

"Dear, dear, you know that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Mina," said Mrs Malty. "Iwould advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guard like that. They won't like it at all."

"You can' take Crighton away!" yelled Mina, making Gnasher the boarhound cower and whimper in her basket. "Take her away an' the Brigh'-brains and Muggle-borns won' stand a chance! Mark my words, there'll be killin's next!"

"Calm yourself, Mina," said Crighton sharply. She looked at Narissa Malty.

"If the governors desire my removal, Narissa, I shall, of course, step aside."

"But –" stuttered Sweets.

" _No!"_ growled Mina.

Crighton had not taken her bright green eyes off Narissa Malty's cold grey ones.

"However," said Crighton, speaking slowly and clearly so that none of us could miss a word, "you will find that I will only _truly_ have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Dragon Mort to those who _ask_ for it."

For a second, I could have sworn that Crighton's eyes flickered towards the corner where Chris, Chrissie and I stood hidden.

"Admirable sentiments," said Malty, curtseying. "We shall all miss your – er – highly individual way of running things, Susan, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any – ah – _"killin's"_."

She strode to the cabin door, opened it and curtseyed Crighton out, but Crighton didn't go; instead she said that she wanted to do a last minute check around on her own, and that she would leave in her own time. Malty tried to argue, but Sweets and Mina overruled her objections by saying that this was a rather suitable idea. Then Sweets, twiddling her witches' hat, waited for Mina to go ahead of her, but Mina stood her ground, took a deep breath and said carefully, "If anyone wanted ter find out some _stuff_ , all they'd have ter do would be to follow the _spiders_. That'd lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'."

Sweets stared at her in amazement.

"All right, I'm comin'," said Mina, pulling on her beaverskin overcoat. But as she was about to follow Fudge through the door, she stopped again and said loudly, "And someone'll need to feed Gnasher while I'm away."

The door banged shut and Crighton looked out of the window and watched the three women walk away and into the castle, I suspected. My suspicions were proved correct, for Crighton must have seen them enter it, otherwise she wouldn't have turned towards the corner where Chris, Chrissie and I were hidden and said, "All right, you three. Out you come. I know you're under there, but I want you to know that it's all right. I'm not going to punish you; I just want to talk to you before I leave. Don't ask me how I know you're under that Cloak, for I haven't got that much time; but out you come, quickly now!"

Chris pulled off the Cloak and we stood looking at Crighton, wondering what she was going to say to us.

Crighton was silent for a few minutes, before she took a deep breath and said, "I'm not angry with you three for sneaking out, because I need you three."

Chris, Chrissie and I looked at each other in astonishment, before I said, "You need us _again_ , Professor?"

"Yes, Kiara, I do," Crighton said, nodding her head, "and the reason for this is because you three are the only ones I can trust to solve the mystery and end this for good. Now then, Kiara, Chris, Chrissie, listen to me carefully, for this is important." Crighton's voice had changed from soft to urgent.

"What is it, Ma?" Chrissie said, looking imploringly at her mother.

"What it is, my darling, is this: you three need to follow the spiders as Mina said at some point to find out more information – not right now, but another night, perhaps. Then you need to go to the hospital wing and see Sian (make up some excuse or other for a teacher), and with her you'll find what you need to know to help you, for only Sian holds the answers that you most desperately seek."

"But Ma, Sian's –" Chris began, but Crighton held up a hand and interrupted him.

"I know Sian's Petrified, Chris, but the reason that Sian was found near the library is _in her hand_. Now, I want you three to promise me something …"

" _Anything_ , ma'am," I said, as Chris and Chrissie nodded their heads in agreement.

Crighton beamed with pride at us and then said, "First, you must promise me not to tell anyone of what you are up to. Can you do that?" We all nodded our heads at this, and then Crighton went on, "I knew I could rely on you three. All right then, this is the most important thing of all: I want you three not only to keep an eye on Kestrel now that Sian's elsewhere for the time being, but I want you to put an end to this darkness; for the school, for me and, above all, for Sian; for her more than anyone. Can you do that?"

I looked at Chris first and he nodded in determination. I nodded at him and then turned to Chrissie, who hesitated, then slowly nodded her head. I looked back at Crighton and said, "We'll do it, Professor."

"Oh, may God truly bless you, dear ones!" Crighton cried in delight, and pulled us together. After about a minute, she let us go and said, "Right, well I'd best be off then. I wish you three the best of luck, for you are really going to need it." And kissing Chris and Chrissie on the forehead, touching my cheek softly and then rubbing Gnasher's ears, she walked to the door and left, closing it softly behind her. When she was gone, Chrissie looked pale, and she was the only one who spoke up:

"We're in trouble now," she said hoarsely. "With no Ma around, they might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day with her gone now."

Gnasher started howling, scratching at the closed door.

0000

When I got back to the dormitory that night and got in bed, the first thing that I did after putting on my pyjamas and getting into bed was to pull out a piece of parchment, quill and ink, and gently began to write a letter to my grandmother Sarabi, so as not to wake Beth and Kestrel.

 _Dear Grandmother Sarabi,_

 _I hope that you are well. I am well, too, but things aren't looking up for us here at Dragon Mort at the moment, but I'll get to that in a little while. But first you asked me to write to you to tell you about the diary. Well, I found out that the girl it belonged to went by the name of Dizra Maliay, and that she caught the person who opened it, who just turned out to be Mina of all people! I can see your shock and surprise even as I'm writing this, and I don't want to believe it to be true, either, but we knew that Mina was expelled for something, didn't we. Anyway, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I agreed that we wouldn't go asking Mina about it, unless another attack happened, which it did. Today there was another double attack; a fifth-year Raven-Wing and Sian. So Chris, Chrissie and I took the Invisibility Cloak down to Mina's after sunset to try to get some answers out of her, but the Minister for Magic entered with Crighton and told Mina that she has to be taken to Azkaban. And what's worse than that is that Narissa Malty shows up and tells Crighton that she and the other school governors have discussed it, and they suspended her. Oh, and much worse than that is this: that if they don't find out who's doing this, the school could be closed down!_

 _That's all the news I have to give you. give my love to Grandmother Sarafina, as always._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Kiara_

I kept Crighton's promise and didn't tell my grandmother what Chris, Chrissie and I were up to, for Crighton was right; us three were the only ones who could finish this as I folded up the letter and put it on my bedside cabinet. There was one thing confusing us, though, and that was what Crighton had said about S.D., but I was sure that the answer to this would become clearer in time; and wouldn't you know it, I was right, but I'll get to that later. For now though, on with the story.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 **Mina's Pet Spider – Arratota!**

 **KIARA**

Summer was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky and river alike were turning periwinkle blue and flowers as large as cabbages were blossoming in the greenhouses. But with no Mina visible from the castle windows, striding through the grounds with Gnasher at her heels, the scene didn't look right to me; no better, in fact, than the inside of the castle, where things were so horribly wrong.

Chris, Chrissie and I had tried to visit Sian, but visitors were now barred from the hospital wing.

"We're taking no more chances," Matron told us severely through a crack in the door. "No, I'm sorry, there's every chance the attacker might come back to finish these people off …"

With Crighton gone, fear had spread as never before, so that the sun warming the castle walls outside seemed to stop at the windows. There was barely a face to be seen that didn't look worried and tense, and any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural and was quickly stifled.

I constantly repeated Crighton's last words to Sweets, Malty and Mina to myself. _"I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me … Help will always be given at Dragon Mort to those who ask for it."_ But what good were these words? I mean, who exactly were we supposed to ask for help, when everyone was just as confused and scared as we were?

Mina's hint about the spiders was far easier to understand – the trouble was there didn't seem to be a single spider left in the castle to follow. I looked everywhere I went, Chris and Chrissie helping me – though she did it rather reluctantly. We were hampered, of course, by the fact that we weren't allowed to wander off on our own, but had to move around the castle in a pack with the other Lion-Hearts. Most of our fellow students seemed glad that we were being shepherded from class to class, but I found it very irksome.

One person, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere of terror and suspicion. Dani Malty was strutting around the school as though she had just been appointed Head Girl. I didn't realise what she was so pleased about until the Potions lesson about a fortnight after Crighton had left, when, sitting right behind Malty, I overheard her gloating to Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley.

"I always thought Mother would be the one to get rid of Crighton," she said, not troubling to keep her voice down. "I told you she thinks Crighton's the worst Headmistress the school's ever had. Maybe we'll get a decent Headmistress now, someone who won't want the Chamber of Mysteries closed. Darbus won't last long, for she's only filling in …"

Triphorm swept past me, making no comment about Sian's empty seat and cauldron.

"Ma'am," said Malty loudly. "Ma'am, why don't you apply for the Headmistress' job?"

"Now, now, Malty," said Triphorm, though she couldn't suppress a thin-lipped smile. "Professor Crighton has been suspended by the governors. I daresay she'll be back with us soon enough."

"Yeah, right," said Malty, smirking. "I expect you'd have Mother's vote, ma'am, if you wanted to apply for the job. I'll tell Mother you're the best teacher here, ma'am …"

Triphorm smirked as she swept off around the dungeon, fortunately not spotting Zara Finn, who was pretending to vomit into her cauldron.

"I'm quite surprised the Sackbrains and Mudbloods haven't all packed their bags by now," Malty went on. "Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity it wasn't the eldest Dawson girl …"

The bell rang at that moment, which was lucky; at Malty's words, Chris and Chrissie leapt off their stools, and in the scramble to collect bags and books, their attempts to reach Malty went unnoticed.

"Let me at her," said Chrissie, as Dena and I held her and Nikita Bore and Zara held Chris, who was struggling and was nodding in agreement to the words that Chrissie spoke at the same time. "I don't care," Chrissie continued, "I don't need my wand; I'm going to _kill_ her with my bare hands –"

"Hurry up, I've got to take you all to Herbology," barked Triphorm over the class' heads, and off we went, crocodile fashion, with me, Chris, Chrissie, Dena, Zara and Nikita bringing up the rear. It was only safe to let go of them when Triphorm had seen us out of the castle, and we were making our way across the vegetable patch towards the greenhouses.

The Herbology class was very subdued; there were now two missing from our number, Justine and Sian.

Spud set us all to task pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. I went to tip an armful of withered stalks onto the compost heap and found myself face-to-face with Emily Mack. Emily took a deep breath and said very formally, "I just want to say, Kiara, that I'm sorry I ever suspected you. I know you'd never attack Sian Dawson, and I apologise for all the stuff I said. We're all in the same boat now, and, well –"

She held out a podgy hand and I shook it.

Emily and her friend Henry came to work at the same tray as me, Chris and Chrissie.

"That Dani Malty character," said Emily, breaking off dead twigs, "she seems very pleased about all this, doesn't she? D'you know, I think _she_ might be Snake-Eyes' heir."

"That's clever of you," said Chris and Chrissie simultaneously, who didn't seem to have forgiven Emily as readily as I had.

"Do _you_ think its Malty, Kiara?" Emily asked.

"No," I said, so firmly that Emily and Henry stared.

A second later, I spotted something that made me hit Chris and Chrissie with my hands.

" _Ouch!_ What're you –"

" _Kiara!_ What the –"

I was pointing at the ground a few feet away. Several large spiders were scurrying across the earth.

"Oh, yeah," said Chrissie, trying and failing to look pleased.

"Trouble is, we can't follow them now, though," Chris said, looking curiously after them.

Emily and Henry were listening curiously.

I watched the spiders running away.

"Looks like they're heading for the Black Forest."

And Chris and Chrissie looked unhappier about that.

At the end of the lesson Professor Triphorm escorted the class to our Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Chris, Chrissie and I lagged behind the others so that we could talk out of earshot.

"We'll have to use the Invisibility Cloak again," I told Chris and Chrissie. "We can take Gnasher with us. She's used to going into the Forest with Mina, she might be some help."

"Right," said Chrissie, who was twirling her wand nervously in her fingers. "Er – aren't there – aren't there supposed to be werewolves in the Forest?" she added, as we took our usual places at the back of Gold's room.

Preferring not to answer that question, I said, "There are good things in there, too. The centaurs are all right, and the unicorns."

Chrissie had never been into the Black Forest before. Myself and Chris had entered it only once, and I had hoped to never do so again, and as I found out in later years, Chris didn't want to, either.

Gold bounded into the room at this point and the class stared at her. every other teacher in the place was looking grimmer than usual, but Gold appeared nothing short of buoyant.

"Come, now," she cried, beaming around her, "why all these long faces?"

People swapped exasperated looks, but nobody answered. I knew, as did Chris and Chrissie, that if Sian were there with us, she would have been brave enough to say something. She always does.

"Don't you people realise," said Gold, speaking slowly, as though we were all a bit dim, "the danger has passed! The culprit has been taken away!"

"Says who?" said Dena Wright loudly.

"My dear young woman, the Minister of Magic wouldn't have taken Mina if she hadn't been one hundred per cent sure that she was guilty," said Gold, in the tone of someone explaining that one and one make two.

"Oh yes she would," said Chrissie, even more loudly than Dena.

"I flatter myself I know a _touch_ more about Mina's arrest than you do, Miss Dawson," said Gold in a self-satisfied tone.

Chrissie started to say that she didn't think so, somehow, but stopped in mid-sentence when Chris kicked her under the desk.

"We weren't there, remember?" I muttered.

But Gold's disgusting cheeriness, her hints that she had always thought Mina was no good, her confidence that the whole business was now at an end, irritated me so much that I yearned to throw _Chilling with Ghouls_ right at Gold's stupid face. Instead I controlled myself and, making up my mind, scrawled a note to Chris and Chrissie: _"Let's do it tonight."_

Chris and Chrissie read the message, and both swallowed hard (Chrissie a bit harder than Chris did) and looked at the empty seat usually filled by Sian. The sight seemed to stiffen their resolve, and they nodded.

0000

I got a letter from my grandmother Sarabi that night, which went thus:

 _My dearest Kiara,_

 _I cannot believe that Mina opened the Chamber of Mysteries, and that she got sent to Azkaban. Look, I know that you don't want to believe that she did it, so believe me when I say, my child, that she didn't, because we know her, don't we? And yes, I know that she has a tendency for monsters, but that doesn't necessarily say that she did it. Furthermore, I am shocked that Crighton has been suspended from her post. I mean, of all the times to send her away from the school, when that place needs her the most! It's absurd! Besides that, Crighton is the best thing that ever happened to that place, despite what others think. But I am terribly sorry that your friend Sian, Crighton's eldest daughter, has been Petrified. I know she meant a lot to you, and I like that girl very much, too. When I told Sarafina all this and that the school might be closed, she and I were – and still are – very much in a state of shock. I hope it won't, but now, who knows what might happen?_

 _Sarafina and I are worried about you and your fiends at the school now. We hardly talk of anything else because of Sian, and now we pray for you every day; for your safety as much as everyone else's there._

 _Got to go now. Sarafina sends you her love. You are always in our thoughts. Keep out of trouble and stay safe now._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Grandmother Sarabi._

I was comforted with the thought that my grandmothers were thinking of me and my friends in our times of trouble and fear. I was also glad to know that I wasn't the only one that was worried about the possibility of the school being closed down. It eased my mind that there were people outside the castle walls who cared about my safety and well-being in these times.

Anyhoo, the Lion-Heart common room was always crowded these days, because from six o'clock onwards, we Lion-Hearts had nowhere else to go. We also had plenty to talk about, with the result that the common room didn't empty until past midnight.

I went to get the Invisibility Cloak out of my trunk right after dinner, and spent the evening sitting on it, waiting for the room to clear. Tanya and Geri challenged Chris, Chrissie and I to a few games of Exploding Snap and Beth and Kestrel sat watching us, Kestrel very subdued in Sian's usual chair. I watched them both; Beth seemed quite cheerful, but Kestrel didn't seem to be with the mood. I thought that this had to do with Sian being Petrified, and was sure that it was playing on her mind, which it was in a way. Anyhoo, Chris, Chrissie and I kept losing on purpose, trying to finish the games quickly, but even so, it was well past midnight when Tanya, Geri, Beth and Kestrel finally went to bed.

Chris, Chrissie and I waited for the sounds of the two dormitory doors closing before seizing the Invisibility Cloak, throwing it over ourselves and climbing through the portrait hole.

It was another difficult journey for us through the castle, dodging all the teachers. At last we reached the Entrance Hall, slid back the lock on the oak front doors, squeezed between them, trying to stop any creaking and stepped out into the grounds.

"Course," said Chrissie, as we strode across the black grounds, "we might get to the Forest and find there's nothing to follow. These spiders might not've been going there at all. I know it looked as though they were moving in that sort of general direction, but …"

Her voice trailed away hopefully.

We reached Mina's house, sad and sorry-looking with its blank windows. When I pushed open the door, Gnasher went mad with joy at the sight of us. Worried that she might wake anyone up at the castle with her deep, booming barks, we hastily fed her some treacle fudge from a tin on the mantelpiece, which glued her teeth together.

I left the Invisibility Cloak on Mina's table. There would be no need for it in the pitch-dark Forest.

"C'mon, Gnasher, we're going for a walk," I said, patting her leg, and Gnasher bounded happily out of the house behind us, dashed to the edge of the Forest and lifted her leg against a large sycamore tree.

Chris and I took out our wands, muttered _"Lumos!"_ and tiny lights appeared at the end of them, just enough to let us watch the path for spiders.

"Good thinking," said Chrissie. "I'd light mine too, but you know – it'd probably blow up or something …"

Chris tapped Chrissie on the shoulder, pointing to the grass. Two solitary spiders were hurrying away from the wandlight into the shade of the trees.

"OK," Chrissie sighed, as though resigned to the worst, "I'm ready. Let's go."

So, with Gnasher scampering around us, sniffing tree roots and leaves, we entered the Forest. By the glow of mine and Chris' wands, we followed the soft trickle of spiders moving along the path. We walked for about twenty minutes, not speaking, listening hard for noises other than breaking twigs and rustling leaves. Then, when the trees had become thicker than ever, so that the stars overhead were no longer visible, and mine and Chris' wands shone alone in the sea of dark, we saw our spider guides leaving the path.

I paused, trying to see where the spiders were going, but everything outside mine and Chris's spheres of light was pitch black. I had never been that deep in the Forest before this point. I could vividly remember Mina advising me not to leave the Forest path the last time I'd been there (which was in my first year, for, after all, you have to remember that I am twelve at the time that I am writing, for this was only my second year at Dragon Mort). But Mina was miles away now, probably sitting in a cell in Azkaban, and she had also said to follow the spiders.

Something wet touched my hand and I jumped backwards, crushing Chrissie's foot, but it was only Gnasher's nose.

"What d'you reckon?" I said to Chris and Chrissie, her eyes Chris and I could just make out, for they were reflected from the light of our wands.

"We've come this far," said Chris.

"For the school, for Ma and for Sian," said Chrissie. This last argument made my mind up for me, so we followed the darting shadows of the spiders into the trees. We couldn't move very quickly now; there were tree roots and stumps in our way, barely visible in the near blackness. I could feel Gnasher's hot breath on my hand. More than once, we had to stop so that Chris and I could crouch down and find the spiders in the wandlight.

We walked for what seemed like at least half an hour, our jeans and T-shirts – for we had changed out of our uniforms after classes had finished – snagging on low-hung branches and brambles. After a while, we noticed that the ground seemed to be sloping downwards, though the trees were as thick as ever.

Then Gnasher suddenly let out a great, echoing bark, making Chris, Chrissie and I jump out of our skins.

"What?" said Chris loudly, looking around in the pitch dark, and gripping my hand very hard.

"There's something moving out there," I breathed. "Listen … sounds like something big."

We listened. Some distance to our right, the something big was snapping branches as it carved a path through the trees.

"Oh no," said Chrissie. "Oh no, oh no, oh –"

"Shut up," Chris said frantically. "It'll hear you."

"Hear _me_?" said Chrissie in an unusually high voice. "It's already heard Gnasher!"

The darkness seemed to be messing on our eyeballs as we stood, terrified, waiting. There was a strange rumbling noise, and then silence.

"What d'you think it's doing?" I said.

"Probably getting ready to pounce," said Chrissie.

We waited, shivering, not daring to move.

"D'you think it's gone?" I whispered.

"Dunno –" Chris started, but he was interrupted by a sudden blaze of light, so bright in the darkness that the three of us flung up our hands to shield our eyes. Gnasher yelped and tried to run, but got caught in a tangle of thorns and yelped even louder.

"Kiara! Chris!" Chrissie shouted, her voice breaking with relief. "Kiara, Chris, it's our car!"

" _What?"_ me and Chris said simultaneously in shock.

"Come on!"

Chris and I blundered after Chrissie towards the light, stumbling and tripping, and a moment later we had emerged into a clearing.

Sian's car was standing, empty, in the middle of a circle of thick trees under a roof of dense branches, its headlamps ablaze. Chrissie walked, open-mouthed towards it, and it moved slowly towards her like a large, black dog greeting its owner.

"Its been here all this time!" said Chrissie delightedly, walking around the car. "Look at it. The Forest's turned it wild …"

The wings of the car were scratched and smeared with mud. Apparently, it had taken to trundling around the Forest on its own.

Gnasher didn't seem at all keen on it; she kept close to me and Chris, who could feel her quivering. Our breathing slowing down again, Chris and I stuffed our wands back inside our jeans' pockets.

"And we thought it was going to attack us!" said Chris, walking to the car, leant against it and patted it. "I wondered where it had gone!"

"Yeah, me too!" said Chrissie, breathing and looking relieved.

I squinted around on the floodlit ground for signs of more spiders, but they had all scuttled away from the glare of the headlights.

"We've lost the trail," I said. "C'mon, let's go and find them."

Chris and Chrissie didn't speak. Their eyes were fixed on a point some ten feet above the Forest floor, right behind my head. Their faces were livid with terror.

I didn't even have time to turn around. There was a loud clicking noise and suddenly I felt something long and hairy seize me around the middle and lift me off the ground, so that I was now hanging face down. Struggling, terrified, I heard more clicking and saw Chris and Chrissie's legs leave the ground too, and heard Gnasher whimpering and howling – next thing I knew, I was being swept away into the dark trees.

Head hanging, I saw that what had hold of me was marching on eight extremely long, hairy legs, the front two clutching me below a pair of shining black pincers. Behind me, I could hear another two of the creatures, who were no doubt bearing Chris and Chrissie. We were moving into the very heart of the Forest. I could hear Gnasher fighting to free herself from a fourth monster, whining loudly, but I couldn't have yelled even if I had wanted to; I seemed to have left my voice back with the car in the clearing.

I never knew how long I was in that creature's clutches; I only knew that the darkness suddenly lifted enough for me to see that the leaf-strewn ground was now swarming with spiders. Craning my neck sideways, I realised that we had reached the rim of a vast hollow, a hollow which had been cleared of trees, so that the stars shone brightly onto the worst scene that I had ever clapped my eyes upon in my entire life so far … well, when I was twelve, that is. A lot far worse stuff has happened since then, but we'll get there eventually.

Anyhoo, what I saw was spiders. Not tiny spiders like those surging over the leaves below. Spiders the size of carthorses, eight-eyed, eight-legged, black, hairy and gigantic. The massive specimen that was carrying me made its way down the steep slope, towards a misty domed web in the very centre of the hollow, while its fellows closed in around it, clicking their pincers excitedly at the sight of its load.

I landed on all fours as the spider released me. Chris, Chrissie and Gnasher thudded down next to me. Gnasher wasn't howling anymore. Chrissie looked exactly like me and Chris felt. Her mouth was stretched wide in a kind of silent scream and her eyes were popping.

I suddenly realised that the spider which had dropped me was saying something. It was hard to tell, because she clicked her pincers with every word she spoke.

"Arratota!" it called. "Arratota!"

And from the middle of the misty domed web, a spider the size of a small elephant emerged, very slowly. There was grey in the black of her body and legs, and each of the eyes on her ugly, pincered head was milky white. She was blind.

"What is it?" she said, clicking her pincers rapidly.

"Women and one man," said the spider that had caught me.

"Is it Mina?" said Arratota, moving closer, ignoring the _"and a man"_ part and her eight eyes were wondering vaguely.

"Strangers," clicked the spider that had brought Chrissie.

"Kill them," said Arratota fretfully. "I was sleeping …"

"We're friends of Mina's," I shouted. I was glad I had my voice back, but what I wasn't so glad about was that my heart seemed to have left my chest to pound rather uncomfortably in my throat.

Click, click, click went the pincers of the spiders all around the hollow.

Arratota paused.

"Mina has never sent women and men into our hollow before," she said slowly.

"Mina's in trouble," said Chris, breathing very fast. "That's why we've come."

"In trouble?" said the aged spider, and Chris, Chrissie and I all thought that we could hear the concern beneath the pincers. "But why has she sent you?"

I thought of getting to my feet, but decided against it; I didn't think my legs would support me, so I spoke from the ground, as calm as I could.

"People up at the school think that Mina's been setting a – a – something on students. They've taken her to Azkaban."

Arratota clicked her pincers furiously, and all around the hollow the sound was echoed by the crowd of spiders; it was like applause, except that applause didn't usually make me feel sick with fear.

"But that was years ago," said Arratota fretfully. "Years and years ago. I remember it well. That's why they made her leave the school. They believed that _I_ was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Mysteries. They thought that Mina had opened the Chamber and set me free."

"And you … you didn't come from the Chamber of Mysteries?" said Chris, who, as well as me, could feel cold sweat on his forehead.

"I?" said Arratota, clicking angrily. " _I_ was not born in the castle. I come from a distant land. A traveller gave me to Mina when I was an egg. Mina was only a girl, but she cared for me, hid me in a cupboard in the castle, feeding me on scraps from the table. Mina is my good friend, a good woman. When I was discovered, and blamed for the death of a boy, she protected me. I have lived in the Forest ever since, where Mina still visits me. She found me a husband, Mossagor, and you see how our family has grown all through Mina's goodness …"

I summoned up what remained of my courage.

"So you never – never attacked anyone?"

"Never," croaked the old spider. "It would have been my first instinct, but from respect of Mina, I never harmed a human. The body of the boy who was killed was discovered in a bathroom. I never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which I grew up. Our kind like the dark and the quiet …"

"But then, did you know what did kill that boy?" said Chris. "Because whatever it is, it's back and attacking people again –"

His words were drowned by a loud outbreak of clicking and the rustling of many long legs shifting angrily; large black shapes shifted all around us.

"The thing that lives in the castle," said Arratota, "is an ancient creature that we spiders fear above all others. Well do I remember how I pleaded with Mina to let me go, when I sensed the beast moving about the school."

"What is it?" I said urgently.

More clicking and rustling followed these words; the spiders seemed to be closing in.

"We do not speak of it!" said Arratota fiercely. "We do not name it! I never even told Mina the name of that dreaded creature, though she asked me, many times."

Chris and I didn't want to press the subject, not with the spiders pressing closer on all sides. Arratota seemed to be getting tired of talking. She was backing slowly into her domed web, but her fellow spiders continued to inch slowly towards Chris, Chrissie and I.

"We'll just go, then," I called desperately to Arratota, hearing leaves rustling behind me.

"Go?" said Arratota slowly. "I think not …"

"But – but –" stammered Chris.

"My sons and daughters do not attack Mina on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Goodbye, friends of Mina."

Chris and I spun round. Feet away, towering above us, was a solid wall of spiders, clicking, their many eyes gleaming in their ugly heads …

I didn't bother reaching for my wand, I knew it was no good, for there were too many of them; but as I tried to stand, ready to die, a loud, dense note sounded, and a blaze of light flamed through the hollow.

Sian's car (we always call it hers even now, even though it is still in the Forest) was thundering down the slope, headlights glaring, its horn screeching, knocking spiders aside; several were thrown onto their backs, their endless legs waving in the air. The car screeched to a halt in front of Chris, Chrissie and I, and the doors flew open.

I got Gnasher as Chris and Chrissie dived into the front seats; I seized the boarhound round the middle and both of us got into the back. The doors slammed shut. Chrissie didn't touch the accelerator but the car didn't need her; the engine roared and we were off, hitting more spiders. We sped off the slope, out of the hollow, and we were crashing through the Forest, branches whipping the windows as the car wound its way through the widest gaps, following a path it obviously knew.

Chris and I both looked at Chrissie as she turned her face sideways. Her mouth was still open in the silent scream, but her eyes weren't popping anymore.

Chrissie just turned back to the front, unwilling to speak.

We smashed our way through the undergrowth, Gnasher howling loudly by my side in the back seat and I saw the wing mirror snap off as we squeezed past a large oak. After ten noisy, rocky minutes, the trees thinned, and I could once again see patches of sky.

The car stopped so suddenly that we were all nearly thrown into the windscreen. We had reached the edge of the Forest. Gnasher flung herself at the window at her anxiety to get out and when I opened the door, she shot off through the trees to Mina's house, tail between her legs. Me, Chris and Chrissie got out too, and after a minute or two, Chrissie seemed to regain the feeling in her limbs and followed, still stiff-necked and staring. Me and Chris both gave the car a grateful pat as it reversed back into the Forest and disappeared from view. And, my dear readers, that was the last time we ever saw that car.

I went back to Mina's cabin to get the Invisibility Cloak. Gnasher was trembling under a blanket in her basket. I gave her a few gentle strokes in order to calm her down, and as soon as I felt her trembling stop, I went back outside and saw Chris standing away from Chrissie, who was being violently sick in the pumpkin patch.

"Follow the spiders," said Chrissie weakly, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. "I'll never forgive Mina for this. We're lucky to be alive."

"I bet she thought that Arratota wouldn't hurt friends of hers," said Chris.

"That's exactly Mina's problem!" said Chrissie, thumping the walls of the cabin. "She always thinks that monsters aren't as bad as they're made out, and looked where it's got her! A cell in Azkaban!" She was shivering uncontrollably now. "What on earth was the point of sending us in there? What have we found out, I'd like to know?"

"That Mina never opened the Chamber of Mysteries," I said, throwing the Cloak over me, Chris and Chrissie and prodding her in the arm to make her walk. "She was innocent."

Chrissie gave a loud snort; evidently hatching Arratota out in a cupboard wasn't her idea of being innocent.

0000

As the castle loomed nearer, I twitched the Cloak to make sure that our feet were hidden, then pushed the creaking front doors ajar. We walked carefully back across the Entrance Hall and up the marble staircase, holding our breath as we passed corridors where watchful sentries were walking. At last we reached the safety of the common room, where the fire had burned itself into growing ash. We took off the Cloak, then Chrissie and I said goodnight to Chris and then we climbed the winding staircases to the dormitories.

Chrissie fell onto her bed without bothering to get undressed. I, on the other hand, didn't feel sleepy. Instead I sat on the edge of my four-poster, thinking hard about everything Arratota had said.

The creature that was lurking somewhere in the castle, I thought, sounded a lot like a sort of monster Zira – even other monsters didn't want to name it (it was made obvious to me that it _was just like a monster Zira_ only a few days later, but we'll get to that). But me, Chris and Chrissie were no closer to finding out what it was, or how it Petrified its victims. Even Mina had never known what was in the Chamber of Mysteries.

I swung my legs onto my bed and leaned back against my pillows, watching the moon glinting at me through the tower window.

I couldn't see what else we could do. We had hit dead ends everywhere. Malty had caught the wrong person, the heir of Snake-Eyes had got off, and no one could tell whether it was the same person or a different one who had opened the Chamber this time. There was nobody else to ask. I lay down, thinking about what Arratota had said …

I was becoming drowsy when what seemed like our very last hope hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn't believe that I had been so slow to miss it until that point! I then sat bolt upright.

"Chrissie!" I hissed through the dark. "Chrissie!"

Chrissie woke with a yelp like Gnasher's, stared around and saw me.

"Chrissie – the boy who died. Arratota said he died in a bathroom," I said, ignoring Beth and Kestrel's snuffling snores. "What if he never left the bathroom? What if he's _still there_?"

Chrissie rubbed her eyes, frowning through the moonlight. Then at last, she understood (well, we all know how slow she can be, don't we?).

"You _don't_ think – not _Old Moany_?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 **The Chamber of Mysteries**

 **KIARA**

"All those times we were in that bathroom and he was in the very end toilet," said Chris at breakfast the next day, "and we could've asked him, and now …"

It had been hard enough trying to look for spiders. Escaping our teachers to sneak into a boys' bathroom, moreover, right next to the scene of the first attack, was going to be almost impossible – well, except for Chris, that was.

But something happened in our first lesson, Transfiguration, which drove the Chamber of Mysteries out of our minds for the first time in weeks. Ten minutes in to the class, Professor Darbus told us that our exams were to start on the first of June, one week from that day.

" _Exams?"_ howled Zara Finn. "We're still getting _exams_?"

There was a loud bang behind me as Nikita Bore's wand slipped, vanishing one of the legs on her desk. Professor Darbus restored it with a wave of her own wand, and turned, frowning, to Zara.

"The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education," she said sternly. "The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all revising hard.

 _Revising hard!_ It had never even occurred to me until then that there would be exams in the castle in this state. There was a great deal of mutinous muttering around the room, which made Professor Darbus scowl even more darkly.

"Professor Crighton's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible," she said. "And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you've learnt this year."

I looked down at the pair of white rabbits I was supposed to be turning into slippers. What had I learned that year? I couldn't seem to think of anything that would be useful in an exam.

Chrissie looked as though she had just been told she had to go and live in the Black Forest.

"Can you imagine me taking exams with this?" she asked Chris and I, holding up her wand, which had just started whistling loudly.

 **KESTREL**

Enough was enough, as far as Kestrel Dawson was concerned.

She didn't have the heart for anything now, not exams, not anything. She felt like nothing mattered to her, now that her eldest sister was Petrified. She had felt this way ever since Sian had been Petrified, and she was so scared that she was going to get caught and get the blame for what she had done to her sister and the others, that she hadn't told a soul about what she had done.

" _Oh, why didn't I just tell Sian and Ma when I had the chance?"_ she thought miserably in the dormitory that morning, after everyone had gone down to breakfast. Kestrel knew that they knew that she was keeping something from them. She could tell. But she was scared and alone, and thought that she could handle it on her own, like Sian. But that was foolish of her; Kestrel realised that now. She knew the time had come to tell the truth, for with Sian Petrified, and her mother gone from the school, she had to turn to the only people she knew could help her: Kiara, Chris and Chrissie.

Thinking about Sian made her sad. She had always been on good terms with her eldest sister, never found her annoying unlike some of her other brothers and sisters, and found her so brave and wise. She missed Sian dearly, and had been more upset ever since she had been Petrified, and that snide voice kept ringing in her head, _"You know what you did to her! Your eldest sister of all people!"_ Kestrel hadn't been the same since she had started to see the horrors that this year had unleashed on her mind, for she thought that with her mother around, she would be safe from all harm. But now her mother was gone, as well as her next best protector, there was hardly anyone left for Kestrel to turn to. Besides this, the attacks had scared her deeply, and she knew why; for it was part of her dreaded secret that she didn't want anyone else to know about; but the attack on Sian hurt her deeply, because Kestrel thought that _she_ did it and that she was the one to blame. Also, she hadn't been the same since she had become entranced, and knew that Chris, Chrissie and – above all people – Kiara were the ones to help her now.

She had heard from Chris, Sian and Chrissie about what they had done and how good Kiara was, so she realised that they were the people she had to talk to. So, taking a few steadying breaths, she got up and went down to breakfast.

 **KIARA**

It was three days before our first exam. At breakfast, Professor Darbus made another announcement.

"I have some good news," she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.

"Crighton's coming back!" several people yelled joyfully.

"You've caught the heir of Snake-Eyes!" squealed a boy on the Raven-Wing table.

"Quidditch matches are back on!" roared Cane excitedly.

When the hubbub had subsided, Professor Darbus said, "Spud has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."

There was an explosion of cheering. I looked over at the Snake-Eyes table and wasn't at all surprised to see that Dani Malty hadn't joined in. Chris and Chrissie, however, were looking far happier than they had been in days.

"It won't matter that we never asked Moany, then!" Chris said to Chrissie and I. "Sian'll probably have the answers when they wake her up! Mind you, she'll go mad when she finds out we've got exams in three days time; she hasn't revised. It might be kinder to leave her where she is till they're over."

I didn't hear the rest of Chris' sentence. I had just thought about some of Crighton's last words to us: _"Go to the hospital wing and see Sian (make up some excuse or other for a teacher), and with her you'll find what you need to know to help you, for only Sian holds the answers that you most desperately seek."_ Just as I was thinking about this, Kestrel Dawson came and sat down next to me in Sian's usual place. She looked tense and nervous, and I noticed that her hands were twisting in her lap.

"What's up with you?" said Chrissie, looking at Kestrel and helping herself to more porridge.

Kestrel didn't say anything, but scanned up and down the Lion-Heart table with a scared look on her face that reminded me of someone, though I couldn't think who it was.

"Spit it out," said Chris, looking at her.

I suddenly realised who Kestrel looked like. She was rocking backwards and forwards slightly in her chair, exactly like Dokey did when she was teetering on the edge of revealing information.

"I've got to tell you something," said Kestrel, looking at me.

"What is it?" I said.

Kestrel looked as though she couldn't find the right words.

" _What?"_ said Chrissie.

Kestrel opened her mouth, but no sound came out. I spoke so low so that only Chris, Chrissie and Kestrel could hear me.

"Is it anything about the Chamber of Mysteries? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"

Kestrel drew a deep breath, and, at that precise moment, Beth Dawson appeared.

"If you've finished eating, Kest, I'll take that seat. I'm starving."

Kestrel jumped up as though her chair had just been electrified, gave Beth a fleeting, frightened look and scarpered away. Beth sat down and grabbed a mug from the centre of the table.

"Beth!" said Chrissie angrily. "She was just about to tell us something important!"

Halfway through a gulp of tea, Beth choked, and we heard a slight laugh from her.

"What sort of thing?" she said, coughing.

"Kiara just asked her if she'd seen anything odd, and she started to say –"

"Oh – that – that's nothing to do with the Chamber of Mysteries," said Beth at once, whilst trying to keep a straight face.

"How do you know?" said Chris, his eyebrows raised.

"Well, er, if you must know, Kestrel and I, er, walked in on Perdy the other day when she was – well, never mind – the point is we spotted her doing something and she, um, asked us not to tell anybody. We've kept our word to her. It's nothing, really, I'd just rather –"

I had known Beth only a few months at this time of my life, and in all those months I had never seen her looking as uncomfortable as she was back then.

"What did you and Kestrel see Perdy doing, Beth?" said Chris, grinning. "Go on. Tell us. We won't laugh."

Beth, however, didn't smile back.

"Can you pass us those rolls, Kiara? I'm starving."

0000

I knew the whole mystery might be solved by tomorrow without our help, but I wasn't about to pass a chance to speak to Moany if it turned up – and to my delight it did mid-morning, when we were being led to History of Magic by Giselle Gold.

Gold, who had so often assured us that the danger had passed, only to be proved wrong straight away, was now whole-heartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see us safely through the corridors. Her hair wasn't as sleek as usual; it seemed she had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor.

"Mark my words," she said, ushering us around a corner, "the first words out of those poor Petrified people's mouths will be, _"It was Mina"_. Frankly, I'm surprised Professor Darbus thinks all these security measures are necessary."

"I agree, ma'am," I said, making Chris halt and Chrissie drop her books in surprise.

"Thank you, Kiara," said Gold graciously, while we waited for a long line of Badger-Stripes to pass. "I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night …"

"That's right," said Chris, as he and Chrissie caught on.

"Why don't you lave us here, ma'am," said Chrissie, "we've only got one more corridor to go."

"You know what, Dawson, Rickers, I think I will," said Gold. "I really should go and prepare my next class."

And she hurried off.

"Prepare her class," Chrissie sneered after her. ""Gone to curl her hair, more like."

We let the rest of the Lion-Hearts draw ahead of us, then darted down a side passage and hurried off towards Old Moany's bathroom. But just as we were congratulating each other on our brilliant scheme …

"Dawson! Pride-Lander! Rickers! What are you doing?"

It was Professor Darbus, and her mouth was the thinnest of lines.

"We were – we were," stammered Chrissie, "we were going to – to go and see –"

And for the second time that day, Crighton's words came back to me: _"Go to the hospital wing and see Sian (make up some excuse or other for a teacher)."_ At last, I understood what Crighton had meant, and, making up my mind on the spot, I finished for Chrissie with the word, "Sian." Chris, Chrissie and Professor Darbus all looked at me.

"We haven't seen her in ages, Professor," I went on hurriedly, treading on Chris and Chrissie's feet, "and we thought we'd sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry."

Professor Darbus was still staring at me, and for a moment I thought she was going to explode; but when she spoke it was in a strangely croaky voice.

"Of course," she said, and I, amazed, saw a tear glinting in her beady eye. "Of course, I realise this has been hardest on the friends and relatives of those who have been … I quite understand. Yes, Pride-Lander, of course you may visit the eldest Dawson girl. I will inform Professor Yawn where you've gone. Tell Matron I have given you my permission."

Chris, Chrissie and I walked away, hardly daring to believe that we'd avoided detention. As we turned a corner, we distinctly heard Professor Darbus blow her nose.

"That," said Chrissie feverishly, "was the best story you've ever come up with."

"Yeah, nice one, Kiara," Chris said, patting me on the back. "But, how did you think of that so quickly? I mean, the only other person we know who does that is, well, Sian."

"Well, it's funny you mention Sian, actually, because I was thinking of some of the last words that your mother said to us, which were: _"Go to the hospital wing and see Sian (make up some excuse or other for a teacher)."_ So, using that as a basis, I quickly came up with a story, so that now we can get the answers from Sian!"

"Brilliant, Kiara!" Chris said triumphantly.

"Yeah, that's brilliant and all," said Chrissie, "but there's just one thing I'd like to clear up; how does Sian have the answers if she's Petrified?"

"I don't know," I said, "but seeing as your mother told us they'd be with her, we'll find out soon enough, won't we?"

And so, we had no choice but to go to the hospital wing and told Matron that we had Professor Darbus' permission to visit our S.D.

Matron let us in, but reluctantly.

"There's just no point talking to a Petrified person," she said, and we had to admit she was right when we'd taken our seats next to Sian, but we had to stand back to take a closer look at her; for you see, the dark rings that had started round her eyes had now covered her eyes completely, so that you couldn't even see the eye itself. They looked like two buttons more than eyes. Anyway, despite all this, it was plain that Sian didn't have the faintest idea that she had visitors, and we might as well have told her bedside cabinet not to worry, for all the good it would do.

"Wonder if she did see the attacker, though?" said Chrissie, looking sadly at her sister's face. "Because if she did, it's a pity she didn't fight back …"

But I wasn't looking at Sian's face; I was more interested with her right hand. It lay clenched on top of her blankets, and bending close, I saw a piece of paper was scrunched not too tightly, but tight enough, inside her fist.

Making sure that Matron was nowhere near, I pointed this out to Chris and Chrissie.

"Try and get it out," Chrissie whispered, and Chris and Chrissie shifted their chairs so that they blocked me from Matron's view.

It was no easy task, though. Sian's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper, even though it was a bit loose, that I was sure I was going to tear it. While Chrissie and Chris kept watch I tugged and twisted, and at last, after several tense minutes, the paper came free.

It was a page torn out of a notebook. On it was a note for me, Chris and Chrissie, with a set of instructions beneath it. It read:

 _Dear Kiara, Chris and Chrissie,_

 _By the time you read this – if I haven't told you guys any of this already, that is – I have been Petrified. Yes, I know, I always do. You should know this about me by now. Anyhoo, the point I'm trying to make is that you need to follow these instructions to the point to help you solve the mystery, which go thus:_

 _Go to the laboratory in the common room, get Wayde and ask him about a creature for the Lizsnabadra. The lab opens with Dawson D.N.A. by the way, so Chrissie will have to open it._

 _Once you've done this, look at some of the pictures on the walls, put the pieces together like I have done, and try to figure out how the students, a ghost and a cat got Petrified, plus any other information you have received._

 _Then, go to Moany's bathroom, for in there you'll find the entrance to the Chamber of Darkness, not to mention the ghost of the boy who died in there, and you're very close to solving it._

 _And finally, if you ever see Dizra Maliay (I know she's a memory, but still; after all, in this world, anything can happen) be careful of her. I know I've said this before, but just in case you forget, I'm reminding you again. Oh, and keep a good watch on Kestrel for me. I don't know if she knows anything about the Chamber for sure, but ask her about it, just in case._

 _Good luck with it all then. I'm telling you this because I know you guys are the school's only hope, and I wouldn't be writing any of this down if I didn't think that you three could do it. I hope I can see you soon._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Your affectionate sister and friend,_

 _Sian_

Chris, Chrissie and I looked at each other in shock, and then we all made up our minds and ran out of the hospital wing, with me still holding Sian's note, and didn't stop running until we got to the Lion-Heart common room. Once we were inside, Chrissie opened the door to the lab and we ran down the stone steps to the bottom. I yelled "Computer on!" and Wayde's face appeared as it did before.

"Hey, guys!" he said cheerily to us. Then he looked round in confusion, and asked, "Where's Sian?"

"She got Petrified by the monster of this school a few months back," Chrissie said. "Didn't Ma tell you that?"

"No, she didn't. I'm sorry; she's a good person, is Sian."

"Thanks, Wayde," I said. "But before she got Petrified, which she suspected would happen, she left us a set of instructions to follow; and the first one says that we should come here and ask you for information on a creature called the Lizsnabadra. Can you get it for us?"

"Coming right up, Kiara," Wayde said to me, and for the next few minutes we could see him typing away and looking at stuff, but we didn't know what. After about five minutes, he spoke to us again.

"OK, so the Lizsnabadra is a kind of Frankenstein's monster of the wizarding world. It's a creature of many parts: the body of a snake, the legs of a lizard, the head of a baby-eyes button doll (for some strange reason or other) and the mouth and fire-breath of a dragon. It was created by lightning, and many magical scientists created these creatures' centuries ago, and hid them in many parts of the world, including Dragon Mort by the looks of things. It can live for many years and can reach gigantic sizes. It can live for many years, unless it hears the call of a rooster, which is fatal to the beast. Spiders are its mortal enemy, so they flee whenever they hear it approach."

"So that's how I've been hearing it!" I said suddenly, making Chris, Chrissie and Wayde jump in alarm. "Its part lizard and part snake! And I speak Parshydamouth, so I can understand it speak."

"Does it have ways of killing, Wayde?" Chris asked.

"Well, they're wondrous for sure; you see, its teeth are venomous, as well as having another way of killing; for you see, its pearly white teeth are so beautiful, that it draws their victim's eye gaze and then once its victim looks at it, they're dead. Also, the fiery breath is obvious and it Petrifies you by putting its eye on top of yours and squeezing its way through them, thereby setting off another type of venom hidden in its eyes, which makes your body freeze. And it has a unique effect on ghosts, too, by going right through the eyes of the ghost, and using the venom in its eyes, freezes the ghost, and makes it go all black and smoky."

"So how's it been making its way around the school, then?" Chrissie asked. "I mean, a monster like that, surely someone must have seen it …"

I looked at the note and turned it over. There was more writing on the back. "Sian's left a postscript," I said and read aloud:

 _P.S.: Oh, and I forgot to mention before that the monster gets around by the pipes in the school. That's all. Good luck once more._

"It's using the _plumbing_ to get around?" Chrissie said, gob-smacked.

But I wasn't listening. I was taking a look at some of the photographs on the walls that Sian had taken. There were dark rings around the eyes that were getting darker as the days went by, scorch marks that I had noticed near the attack on Mrs Robbs and a few other things that looked familiar from what we had seen. Chris, though, wasn't looking at this; he was following up Chrissie's question with another.

"Taking all this into account, how come no one's seen it properly, then?"

I looked at Chris, Chrissie and Wayde, and answered Chris' question for him.

"We know that the Lizsnabadra kills people by getting them to look at its teeth; but it seems that no one did look at its teeth properly, because there was no time for it to open its mouth properly. Colleen saw the eyes through her camera. Justine … Justine must've seen the Lizsnabadra through Nearly Headless Nicola, but I think that Nicola got a full blast of it, teeth and all, but she couldn't die _again_. And Sian and that Raven-Wing Prefect were found with the mirror next to them, which Crighton gave her. Sian had just realised the monster was a Lizsnabadra. I bet you anything she took it out because she heard a noise, and wondered what it was and probably got Petrified whilst trying to defend herself!"

Chrissie's jaw had dropped.

"And Mrs Robbs?" she whispered eagerly.

I thought hard, picturing the scene on the night of Hallowe'en.

"The water …" I said slowly, "the water from Old Moany's bathroom. I bet you Mrs Robbs saw the reflection before her attack …"

I repeated the words that Wayde had said over in my head. The more I memorised them, the more it made sense.

" _The call of a rooster is fatal to the beast."_ I said aloud. "Mina's roosters were killed! The heir of Snake-Eyes didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened! _Spiders are its mortal enemy, so they flee whenever they hear it approach!_ It all fits!"

"So it's been using the pipes to get around?" said Chris, going back to an earlier point to try and make sense of it himself.

"Exactly, Chris," I said. "I've been hearing its voice inside the walls …"

Chrissie, who had been deep in thought for quite some time, seemed to have realised something, for she suddenly grabbed mine and Chris' arms.

"The entrance to the Chamber of Mysteries!" she said hoarsely. "What if it's a bathroom? What if it's in –?"

" – _Old Moany's bathroom,"_ said Chris and I together.

We stood there, excitement coursing through us, hardly daring to believe that we had got to the bottom of it at last.

"This means," I said, "I can't be the only Parshydamouth in the school. The heir of Snake-Eyes' one, too. That's how they've been controlling the Lizsnabadra."

"What're we going to do?" said Chris, his eyes flashing. "Shall we go straight to Darbus?"

"Let's go to the staff room," I said, clapping my hands together. "She'll be there in ten minutes, it's nearly break." Then I turned to Wayde and said, "Wayde is there a secret passage in this room that leads to somewhere else in the castle?"

"As a matter of fact there is," he said.

"Where does it lead to?" said Chris.

"Just outside the staff room."

"Well that's handy," chuckled Chrissie. She then turned to Wayde and said, "Can you open it up for us, Wayde?"

"Sure thing, Chrissie," he said, and typing on his computer for a few seconds, we heard a slight rumbling in the right wall. Under the desk, a panel opened, which revealed a large slide. Chris, Chrissie and I nodded at each other, and then turned to Wayde once more.

"Thanks for all your help, Wayde," I said to him.

"No problem, you guys," he said, as the computer was fading slowly back into the wall. "Good luck with everything, and I hope that Sian will be OK …" before he could say another word to us, he was gone.

Chris, Chrissie and I went to the slide and went down it rather quickly. Within at least two minutes we were at the bottom and I opened up the hatch at the bottom and saw the staff room door opposite. I looked around and saw that the corridor was deserted, then I beckoned to Chris and Chrissie to follow me, and we ran out. I closed the panel to the secret tunnel and we entered the staff room.

The staff room was a large, panelled room full of dark, wooden chairs. Me, Chris and Chrissie paced around it, too excited to sit down.

But the bell to signal break never came.

Instead, echoing through the corridors came Professor Darbus' voice, magically magnified.

" _All students are to return to their house dormitories at once. All teachers are to return to the staff room immediately, please."_

I wheeled around to look at Chris and Chrissie.

"Not another attack? Not now?"

"What'll we do?" said Chrissie, aghast. "Go back to the dormitory?"

"No," said Chris, spotting an ugly sort of wardrobe to my left, full of the teachers' cloaks. "In there. Let's here what it's all about. Then we can tell them what we've found out."

We hid ourselves inside it, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving overhead, and the staff room door hanging open. From behind the musty folds of the doors, we watched the teachers flittering into the room. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. Then Professor Darbus arrived.

"It has happened," she told the silent staff room. "A student has been taken by the monster, right into the Chamber itself."

Professor Winds let out a little squeal. Spud's usual smile vanished, and a look of shock spread over his face. Triphorm gripped the back of her chair very hard and said, "How can you be sure?"

"The heir of Snake-Eyes," said Professor Darbus, who was very white, "left another message. Right underneath the first one: _Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever."_

Professor Winds burst into tears.

"Who is it?" said Sir Turner, who had sank, weak-kneed, into a chair. "Which student?"

"Kestrel Dawson," said Professor Darbus.

I felt Chris and Chrissie slide slowly down onto the wardrobe floor beside me.

"We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow," said Professor Darbus. "This is the end of Dragon Mort. Crighton always said …"

The staff room door banged open again. For one wild moment of wishful-thinking, I felt sure that it would be Crighton. But it was Gold, and she was beaming, as per usual.

"So sorry – dozed off – what have I missed?"

She didn't seem to notice that the other teachers were looking at her with something remarkably like hatred. Triphorm stepped forward.

"Just the woman," she said. "The very woman. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Gold. Taken her into the Chamber of Mysteries itself. Your moment has come at last."

Gold blinked.

"That's right, G," Spud chipped in. "Weren't you saying the other night that you've known _all along_ where the entrance to the Chamber of Mysteries is?"

"I – well, I –" spluttered Gold.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were _sure_ you knew what was inside it?" piped up Professor Winds.

"D – did I? I don't recall …"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Mina was arrested," said Triphorm. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled up and that you should have been given free reign from the first?"

Gold stared around at her stony-faced colleagues.

"I … I never _really_ … you may have misunderstood …"

"We'll leave it to you the, Giselle," said Professor Darbus. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free reign at last."

Gold gazed desperately around her, but nobody came to her rescue. She didn't look remarkably beautiful anymore. Her lip was trembling and in the absence of her usual toothy grin, she looked weedy and weak-chinned.

"Very – very well," she said. "I'll – I'll be in my office, getting – getting ready."

And she left the room.

"Right," said Professor Darbus, whose nostrils were flared, "that's got _her_ out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them that the Dragon Mort Submarines will take them home tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students are left outside their dormitories. I must check on the Dawsons," she added to herself. "First the eldest Dawson girl, and now this. That poor family, and one of the best in the world, too …" her voice trailed off as she walked out of the room and down the corridor.

And the rest of the teachers, one by one, got up and left, too.

0000

At that moment of my life, it was undoubtedly the worst moment of it. I have had many more since then, some of which whilst I was at school, but we'll get to those. When me, Chris and Chrissie got back to the common room, the first thing I did was I called my grandmother Sarabi.

It rang. Then a voice spoke.

"Hello?" came the voice of my grandmother.

"Hi, Grandmother Sarabi," I said.

"Kiara," she said, surprised. "How are you?"

"Not great," I answered sadly.

"Why? What is it? What's happened?" she said, with worry in her voice.

"Well, do you remember when I wrote to you last and told you that the school might be closed?"

There was a pause, then, "Yes. What about it?"

"Well, Kestrel Dawson has been taken into the Chamber of Mysteries. They're sending us home tomorrow. The school _is_ being closed down, Grandmother."

Grandmother Sarabi gasped and said, "Oh, Kiara. I'm so sorry." I heard a sob; it seemed that she was crying.

"Yeah, I am, too," I said. We were both silent for a while before I said, "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Yes, that you will, my darling. I love you."

"Love you, too. Bye," I said, and then hung up.

Some hours after this conversation, Chris, Chrissie, Beth, Tanya and Geri Fang and myself were sat together in a corner of the Lion-Heart common room, unable to say anything to each other. Perdy wasn't there. She had gone to send a letter to her own parents, then shut herself up in her dormitory. Chrissie had called Mr Dawson on her phone to tell him about Kestrel and that the school would be closed. As you can imagine, he was pretty distraught about it.

No afternoon had ever lasted as long as that one had, nor had Lion-Heart Tower ever been so crowded. Near sunset, Beth, Tanya and Geri went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer, with tears streaming down Beth's face; after all, she was Kestrel's twin sister, the person who was closest to her in all the world, so no one blamed her for being upset.

"She knew something, Kiara," said Chrissie, speaking for the first time since we had entered the wardrobe in the staff room. "That's why she was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Perdy at all. She'd found out something about the Chamber of Mysteries. That must be why she was –" Chrissie rubbed her eyes frantically. "I mean, she was a Bright-brain. There can't be any other reason."

I could see the sun sinking, blood red, below the skyline. At that moment, it was the worst I had ever felt. If only there was something we could do. Anything.

"Kiara," said Chris, "d'you think there's any chance at all she's not – you know –"

I didn't know what to say. I couldn't see how Kestrel could still be alive.

"D'you know what?" said Chrissie. "I think we should go and see Gold and tell her what we know. She's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell her where we think it is, and tell her it's a Lizsnabadra in there."

Because I couldn't think of anything else to do, and because I wanted to do something, I agreed, as did Chris. The Lion-Hearts around us were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Dawsons that nobody tried to stop us as we got up, crossed the room and left through the portrait hole.

Darkness was falling as we walked down to Gold's office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it, for we could hear scraping, thumps and hurried steps.

I knocked and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and we saw one of Gold's eyes peering through it.

"Oh … Miss Dawson … Miss Pride-Lander … Mr Rickers …" she said, opening the door a mite wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment. If you would be quick …"

"Professor, we've got some information for you," I said. "We think it'll help you."

"Er – well – it's not terribly –" the sides of Gold's face that we could see looked very uncomfortable. "I mean – well – all right."

She opened the door and we entered.

Her office had almost been completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes jade green, lilac and midnight blue to name a few had been hastily folded in one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" I said.

"Er, well, yes," said Gold, ripping down a life-size poster of from the back of her office door as she spoke and starting to roll it up. "Urgent call … unavoidable … got to go …"

"What about our sister?" said Chrissie jerkily, pointing to herself and Chris.

"Well, as to that – most unfortunate," said Gold, avoiding our eyes as she wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I –"

"You're the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!" said Chris. "You can't go now! Not with all the dark stuff going on here!"

"Well … I must say … when I took the job …" Gold muttered, now piling socks on top of her robes, "nothing in the job description … didn't expect …"

"You mean you're _running away_?" I said disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books?"

"Books can be misleading," said Gold delicately.

"You wrote them!" I shouted.

"My dear girl," said Gold, straightening up and frowning at me. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old American warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. And the witch who banished the Brussels Banshee had a hairy chin – I mean, come on …"

"So you've just been taking credit for what other people have done?" I said incredulously.

"Huh, looks like Sian was right about you all along, then," said Chris. I spun around and saw that he had no respect in his eyes for Gold anymore, which I was glad of.

" _Now_ he gets it," said Chrissie sarcastically.

"Kiara, Kiara," said Gold, taking no notice of what Chris and Chrissie had just said and shaking her head impatiently, "it's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down and asked them how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's something I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Kiara. It hasn't been all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long and heard slog."

She banged the lids of her trunks shut and locked them.

"Let's see," she said. "I think that's everything. Yes, only one thing left."

Gold pulled out her wand and turned to us.

"Awfully sorry you three, but I'll have to put Memory Charms on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book …"

I reached my wand just in time. Gold had barely raised hers, when I bellowed, _"Expelliarmus!"_

Gold was blasted backwards, falling over her trunk. Her wand flew high into the air; Chrissie caught it and flung it out of the open window.

"Shouldn't have let Professor Triphorm teach us that one," I said furiously, kicking Gold's trunk aside. Gold was looking up at me, weedy once more. I was still pointing my wand at Gold.

"What do you want me to do?" said Gold weakly. "I don't know where the Chamber of Mysteries is. There's nothing I can do."

"You're in luck," I said, forcing Gold to her feet at wand point. "We think we know where it is. _And_ what's inside it. Chris, Chrissie," I said, turning to them, "keep a good eye on _Professor_ Gold here, and if she tries to run, stop her. Let's go."

Gold marched between Chris and Chrissie as they followed me out of Gold's office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages shone on the wall and to the door of Old Moany's bathroom.

We sent Gold in first. I was pleased to see that she was shaking.

Old Moany was sitting on the cistern of the toilet.

"Oh, it's you," he said when he saw me. "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," I said.

Moany's whole aspect changed at once. He looked as though he had never been asked such a flattering question.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," he said with relish. "It happened right here in this very cubicle. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Oliver Hornby was teasing my name – Mickey Moany. The door was locked and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. they said something funny; a different language I think it might have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a _girl_ speaking – so I unlocked the door to tell her to go and use her own toilet, and then –" Moany swelled importantly, his face shining, _"I died."_

"How?" I said.

"No idea," said Moany in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, pearly-white teeth. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away …" he looked dreamily at me. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Oliver Hornby, you see. Oh, he was sorry he'd ever laughed at my name."

"Where exactly did you see the teeth?" I said.

"Somewhere there," said Moany, pointing vaguely towards the circle of sinks.

Me, Chris and Chrissie hurried over to them. Gold was standing well back, a look of utter terror on her face.

They looked like ordinary sinks. We examined every one of them, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then I saw it: the sink that faced the far wall of the bathroom, scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny Lizsnabadra.

"That tap's never worked," said Moany brightly as I tried to turn it.

"Kiara," said Chrissie, "say something. Say something in Parshydatongue."

I thought hard. The only times I had ever spoken Parshydamouth were when I'd been faced with a real Lizsnabadra. I stared hard at the tiny engraving, trying to imagine it was real.

"Open up," I said.

I looked at Chris and Chrissie, who shook their heads.

"English," he said.

I looked back at the Lizsnabadra, willing myself to believe it was alive. If I moved my head, the candlelight made it look as though it was moving.

"Open up," I said.

Except that the words weren't what I'd heard; instead a strange hissing noise had escaped me, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. The top which connected all the sinks split apart from them and hovered above them, whilst the sinks started to move backwards. The sink with the Lizsnabadra on it sank right out of sight and a grate moved over it, to reveal a large pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

I heard Chris and Chrissie gasp and I looked round at them. I had made up my mind what I was going to do.

"I'm going down there," I said.

I couldn't go now, not now that we had found the entrance to the Chamber of Mysteries, not even if there was the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Kestrel might be alive.

"We're going, too," said Chrissie, as Chris nodded in agreement.

There was a pause.

"Well, you hardly seem to need me," said Gold, with a shadow of her old smile. "I'll just –"

She put her hand on the doorknob, but me, Chris and Chrissie pointed our wands at her.

"You can go first," snarled Chrissie.

White-faced and wandless, Gold approached the opening.

"You three," she said, her voice feeble, "you three, really, what good will it do?"

I jabbed her with my wand. Gold slid her legs into the pipe.

"I really don't think –" she started to stay, but Chris gave her a push and she slid out of sight. I followed quickly. I lowered myself slowly into the pipe, then let go.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. I could see more pipes breaking off in all directions, but none as large as ours, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downwards, and I knew I was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Behind me I could hear Chris and Chrissie, thudding slightly on the curves.

And then, just when I began to worry about what would happen when I hit the ground, the pipe levelled out and I shot out of the end of it with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel, large enough to stand in. gold was getting to her feet a little way away, covered in slime and as white as a ghost. I stood aside as Chris and Chrissie came whizzing out of the pipe too.

"We must be miles under the school," I said, my voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the river, probably," said Chrissie, squinting around at the dark, slimy walls.

All four of us turned to stare into the darkness ahead.

" _Lumos!"_ me and Chris muttered to our wands, and they lit up again. "C'mon," I said to Chris, Chrissie and Gold and off we went, our footsteps echoing loudly on the wet floor.

The tunnel was so dark that we could only see a little distance ahead. Our shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wandlight.

"Remember," I said quietly, as we walked cautiously forward, "any sign of movement, close your eyes straight away …"

But the tunnel was as quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound we heard was a loud _crunch_ as Chrissie stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. I lowered my wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones. Trying very hard not to imagine what Kestrel might look like if we found her, I led the way forward, round a dark bend in the tunnel.

"Kiara, there's something up there …" said Chris hoarsely, grabbing my shoulder.

We froze, watching. I could just see something huge and curved lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving.

"Maybe it's asleep," I breathed, glancing back at the other three. Gold's hands were pressed over her eyes – I turned back to look at the thing, my heart beating so fast that it hurt.

Very slowly, with my eyes closed so narrow as I could make them so that I could still see where I was going, I edged slowly forwards with my wand held high.

The light slid over a gigantic Lizsnabadra skin: the tail and body were a poisonous green and the head a button eyed baby doll, lay curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.

"Blimey," said Chris weakly.

There was a sudden movement behind us. Giselle Gold had just passed out.

"Get up," said Chrissie sharply, pointing her wand at Gold.

Gold got to her feet – then dived at Chrissie, knocking her to the ground.

I jumped forward, but it was too late. Gold was straightening up, panting, Chrissie's wand in her hand and a gleaming smile back on her face.

"The adventure ends here, you three!" she said. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, and tell them that it was too late to save the girl, and that you three _tragically_ lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body. Say goodbye to your memories!"

She raised Chrissie's Sellotaped wand above her head and yelled, _"Obliviate!"_

The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. I flung my arms over my head and ran, slipping over the coils of the Lizsnabadra skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling which were thundering to the floor. Next moment, I was standing alone, gazing at the solid wall of broken rock.

"Chris! Chrissie!" I shouted. "Are you OK? Chris! Chrissie!"

"We're here!" came Chrissie's muffled voice from behind the rock fall. "We're OK. This dozy mooey's not, though – she got blasted by the wall."

There was a dull thud and a loud "Ow!" It sounded as though Chrissie had just hit Gold in the shins.

"What now?" Chris' voice said, sounding desperate. "We can't get through. It'll take ages …"

I looked up at the tunnel ceiling; I could see huge cracks had appeared in it. I had never tried to break apart anything as large as these rocks by magic at this point, and at that moment, it didn't seem like a good moment to try – what if the whole tunnel caved in and we couldn't get to Kestrel? It wasn't worth the risk.

There was another thud and another "Ow!" from behind the rocks. We were wasting time. Kestrel had already been in the Chamber of Mysteries for hours. I knew there was only one thing to do.

"Wait there," I called to Chris and Chrissie. Wait with Gold. I'll go on. If I'm not back in an hour …"

There was a very pregnant pause.

"Chrissie and I'll shift some of this rock," said Chris, who seemed to be trying to keep his voice steady. "So you can – can get back through. And Kiara –"

"See you in a bit," I said, trying to inject a bit of confidence into my shaky voice.

And so I set off alone, past the Lizsnabadra skin.

Soon the distant noise of Chris and Chrissie straining to shift the rock was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in my body was tingling unpleasantly with suspense. I wanted the tunnel to end, and yet dreaded what I'd find when it did. And then, at long last as I crept round yet another bend, I saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined Lizsnabadras were set, their eyes set with great, glinting black buttons.

I approached my throat very dry. There was no need for me to pretend these stone Lizsnabadras were real; their eyes looked strangely alive.

I could guess what I had to do. I cleared my throat and the button eyes seemed to flicker.

" _Open,"_ I said in a low, faint hiss.

The Lizsnabadras parted as the wall cracked open and the halves slid out of sight. I was shaking from head to foot, but I took a deep breath for courage and stepped inside.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

 **The Heir of Snake-Eyes**

 **KIARA**

I was standing at the end of a dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved Lizsnabadras rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

My heart beating very fast, I stood listening in the chill silence. Could the Lizsnabadra be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Kestrel?

I pulled out my wand and moved forward between the Lizsnabadra columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. I kept my eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the Lizsnabadras seemed to be following me. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, I though I saw one stir.

Then, as I drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue as high as the chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

I had to crane my neck to look up into the giant face above: it was ancient and monkey-like, with long hair that fell almost to the bottom of the witch's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the huge chamber floor. And between the feet, face down lay a small, navy-robed figure with dark brown hair.

" _Kestrel!"_ I muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to my knees. "Kestrel! Don't be dead! Please don't be dead!" I flung my wand aside, grabbed Kestrel's shoulder and turned her over. Her face was white as marble and as cold as ice, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be …

"Kestrel, please wake up," I muttered desperately, shaking her. Kestrel's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

I jumped and span around on my knees.

A tall, golden-curled headed girl with a long face, red lips and dark green eyes was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching me. She was strangely blurred around the edges, as though I was looking at her through a misted window. But there was no mistaking her, for even though I didn't recognise her face, I certainly knew her voice.

"Dizra – _Dizra Maliay_?"

Maliay nodded, not taking her large, dark eyes off my face.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" I said desperately. "She's not – she's not –"

"She's still alive," said Maliay. "But only just."

I stared at her. Dizra Maliay had been at Dragon Mort fifty years ago, and yet there she stood before me, with a weird, missy light shining about her, not a day older than sixteen.

"Are you a ghost?" I said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Maliay quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

She pointed towards the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little red diary I had found in Old Moany's bathroom, for a second, I wondered how it had got there – but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"You've got to help me, Dizra," I said, raising Kestrel's head again. "We've got to get her out of here. There's a Lizsnabadra … I don't know where it is, but it could come along at any moment. Please, help me …"

Maliay didn't move. I was sweating by now, but I still managed to hoist Kestrel off the floor, and bent to pick up my wand again.

But my wand had gone.

"Did you see –?"

I looked up. Maliay was still watching me – twirling my wand between her long fingers. Of course, if I had known who she was and what was going to happen, I would have gotten Kestrel and myself out of there as fast as I could go, but unfortunately, I was too naive to see what was really going on for a few more minutes before I started to get really suspicious.

"Thanks," I said, holding out my hand for Maliay to pass me my wand back.

A smile curled across the corners of Maliay's mouth. She continued to stare at me, twirling the wand idly.

"Listen," I said urgently, my knees sagging with Kestrel's dead weight, " _we've got to go!_ If the Lizsnabadra comes …"

"It won't come until its called," said Maliay calmly.

I lowered Kestrel back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer.

"What d'you mean?" I said. "Look, give me my wand; I might need it."

Maliay's smile broadened.

"You won't need it," she said.

I just stared at her.

"What d'you mean, I won't be –?"

"I've waited a long time for this, Kiara Pride-Lander," said Maliay. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you."

"Look," I said, losing patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the _Chamber of Mysteries_. We can talk later."

"We're going to talk now," said Maliay, still smiling broadly as she pocketed my wand.

I stared at her. There was something very strange going on here. And as I stared at Maliay, Sian's words from long ago suddenly came back to me: _"Be very careful, and don't trust everything she tells you …_ _You should be careful with Maliay, Kiara. Very careful."_ And that's just what I did.

"How did Kestrel get like this?" I asked Maliay slowly.

"Well, that's a very interesting question," said Maliay pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Kestrel Dawson is like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" I said.

"The diary," said Maliay. " _My_ diary. Little Kestrel's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes: how her eldest sister is _quite cold_ and _bossy_ , how she had come to school, fearing that no one will like her, how –" Maliay's eyes glinted "– how she didn't think the famous, good, great Kiara Pride-Lander would _ever_ like her …"

All the time Maliay spoke, she never took her eyes off my face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

"It's very _boring_ , having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," she went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back, and was sympathetic and kind to her. Kestrel simply _loved_ me. _"No one's ever understood me like you, Dizra … I'm so glad I've got this diary to console in … It's like having a friend I can carry round in my pocket …"_

Maliay laughed a high, cold laugh that didn't suit her. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

"If I say it myself, Kiara, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Kestrel poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her deepest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Dawson. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Dawson a few of _my_ secrets, to start pouring a little of _my_ soul back into _her_ …"

"What d'you mean?" I said my mouth very dry.

"Haven't you guessed yet, Kiara Pride-Lander?" said Maliay softly. "Kestrel Dawson opened the Chamber of Mysteries. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Lizsnabadra of Snake-Eyes on four Sackbrains – one of whom also happened to be a Mudblood – and the Squib's cat."

"No," I whispered.

"Yes," said Maliay calmly. "Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries … Far more interesting they became … _Dear Dizra,"_ she recited, watching my horrified face, _"I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there. Dear Dizra, I can't remember what I did on the night of Hallowe'en, but a vat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Dizra, Sian keeps telling me I'm pale and not myself. I think she suspects me … There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Dizra, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad … I think I'm the one who's attacking everyone, Dizra!"_

My fists were clenched, the nails digging deep into my palms as she said this.

"It took a very long time for stupid little Kestrel to stop trusting her diary," said Maliay. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Kiara. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could've picked it up, it was _you_ , the very person I was most anxious to meet …"

"And why did you want to meet me?" I said. Anger was coursing through me and it was an effort to keep my voice steady.

"Well, you see, Kestrel told me all about you, Kiara," said Maliay. "Your whole _fascinating_ history." Her eyes roved over the flame-shaped scar on my forehead and her expression grew hungrier. "I knew I must find out more about you. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Mina, to gain your trust."

"Mina's my friend," I said, my voice shaking now. "And you framed her, didn't you? I thought you were making a mistake, but –"

Maliay laughed her high laugh again, but was interrupted by another noise.

It was a growl that started out low, but grew louder as it came ever near us. Maliay and I both looked at the end of the chamber, and saw a pair of eyes loom out of the darkness, and as it came nearer a body emerged as that of a lioness with amber-gold fur and familiar grey-blue-greenish eyes, that growled as it walked. I don't know if Maliay was scared or not (if she was, she was certainly hiding it well), but I know I was, but I concealed it well; for when it comes to animals, it's important that you keep calm at all times for they can sense fear. Anyhoo, it walked right up to us, staring straight at Maliay and kept growling at her. There was something odd about the wolf, though; for there was glowing, spiritual energy emanating off of it, as though it was an animal spirit of some kind. It continued to glare and growl at Maliay, who remained perfectly calm, until I gasped.

The lioness turned its head towards me, stopped glaring and growling and instead, which shocked me, sat down on the ground and looked at me with what I guessed would be a smile if it were human, with very kind eyes which seemed familiar to me and its mouth looked as though it was curled up in a smile - if that was possible, of course.

I was shocked for a moment, but looked more closely at the lioness; it had spots of fur in a few deeper shades of grey covering its nose, and its eyes reminded me of someone I knew. The lioness, getting impatient with my slowness, gave me an impatient look by lifting its eyes a little and going from left to right and to left again, as if to say, _"Come on, Kiara!"_

Then I gave another gasp, but of realisation this time, for I suddenly realised who it reminded me of. I thought it was crazy, but I took a long shot and said to the wolf, "Sian? Is that you?"

The lioness got up and as it did, a bright amber-golden light shone around her and grew wider as the wolf changed from wolf spirit, to human-wolf spirit, to human spirit. And I was right; it was Sian who stood before me, with the same amber-gold spiritual light emanating from her.

Sian looked at me with a little anger as she said, "Well, it's about darn pickin' time you knew it was me! It took you long enough!" she then sighed, shook her head, looked back at me, smiled and said, "Oh, it's so good to see you again, Kiara! It really is!"

"It's good to see you too, S.D.!" I said delightedly; I glad to see my best friend again after so long. And as another shock, Sian came forward with her arms held out wide, and hugged me! She actually hugged me! I couldn't believe it. I was shocked for a few moments, but I quickly shrugged it off and hugged my friend back. After about thirty seconds, we let go.

"So, what is this?" I said, looking her up and down at the spiritual energy. "I mean, how is this possible?"

"Oh, it's my Animal Spirit," she told me. "The Ministry's been working on it for quite some time now. You see, if you've got too much time on your hands and haven't quite mastered Animagi yet, you can always try to be an animal spirit. Far safer, and you get your own personal Animal Spirit pendant, too."

"Cool," I said. "So what have you been doing these past couple of months? Have you been stuck in your body, or –"

" _Stuck in my body?"_ Sian yelled indignantly. " _Me_ , of all people? Nah, I've had too much important stuff to do. So, I went home to see my dad and other siblings. They were a bit shocked, of course, but they soon became used to me around the house and were happy to see me again, as was Ma. For you see, after she got suspended, she spent a lot of time with the family and told me what she told you about me having figured it out. I was pleased, because I knew that you would follow the clues; a little bit slower than I expected, but still, you got there. Nice one for that, by the way," she said, winking.

"Thanks," I said.

"No problem. So, coming back to tonight, I suspected that you, Chris and Chrissie would try to get into the Chamber. Good job for trying to get Gold on your side, but I knew that she was a lost cause for, well, I did say she was useless. Anyhoo, I flew back to the school, followed Kestrel's spirit down here (when you're an Animal Spirit, you can do that. It's pretty cool) and waited for you and _her_ ," she gave a slight nod to Maliay, "to show up."

"So you heard everything as well as seen everything, have you?" said Maliay smartly.

Sian turned to Maliay and said, "Yes, that I have."

Maliay looked at her and said, "Who are you, exactly?"

Sian sniggered and said sweetly, "Oh, please, can't you tell?"

Maliay looked at her closely for a few moments, and then said. "Of course, I should have known. You're Crighton's eldest daughter, Sian, aren't you?"

"That I am, and proud to be, too," Sian said proudly. "Oh, and don't even think about trying to kill me, for I'm a spirit. Although ironically, we Spirits can still feel physical pain."

"Don't trust her, Kiara," Sian muttered in my ear, not taking her eyes off Maliay.

"Believe me, Sian, I'm not. Not anymore," I said. Sian looked at me with a satisfied smile, before glaring back at Maliay

Maliay glared at Sian, and after a moment, Sian spoke again, "So, before I interrupted, what were you saying about our dear friend Mina?"

"Ah, yes, Mina. Well, you see, it was my word against Mina's, Kiara. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Alana Dipper. On the one hand, Dizra Maliay, poor but brilliant, parentless but _so_ brave, school Prefect, Head Girl, model student; on the other hand, big, blundering Mina, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under her bed, sneaking off to the Black Forest to wrestle trolls. But I admit, even _I_ was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought _someone_ must realise that Mina couldn't possibly be the heir of Snake-Eyes. It had taken _me_ five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Mysteries and discover the secret entrance … as though Mina had the brains, or the power!

"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Crighton, seemed to think Mina was innocent. She persuaded Dipper to keep Mina and train her as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Crighton might have guessed. Crighton never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did …"

"Good thing, too!" said Sian.

I nodded in agreement with her on this, and then I said, "I bet Crighton saw right through you."

"Well, she certainly kept and annoyingly close watch on me after Mina was expelled," said Maliay carelessly. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Selena Snake-Eyes noble work."

"Well, you haven't finished it," I said triumphantly. "No one's died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and Sian along with everyone else who was Petrified will be all right again."

"Haven't I already told you," said Maliay quietly, "that killing Sackbrains and Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been – _you_."

I stared at her. I saw out of the corner of my eye that Sian kept looking from me to Maliay and back again repeatedly, and I guessed that she was scared and anxious about what could happen.

"Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Kestrel who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it and I repeated all my secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who's been strangling roosters? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Snake-Eyes' heir. From everything Kestrel had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery – particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Kestrel told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parshydatongue …

"So I mad Kestrel write her own farewell on the wall and came down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became _very_ boring. But there isn't much left in her now: she put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last. I have been waiting for you to appear, Kiara, since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Kiara Pride-Lander."

"Like what?" I said with my fists still clenched.

"Well," said Maliay, smiling pleasantly, "how is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent managed to defeat the greatest witch of all time? How did _you_ escape with nothing but a scar, while Lady Zira's powers were destroyed?"

There was an odd red gleam in her hungry eyes now.

"Why do you care how I escaped?" I said slowly. "Zira was after your time."

"No, she's not, Kiara," said Sian. I looked at her, and she was looking at me very seriously.

"What do you mean?" I asked her, puzzled. But before Sian could answer me, Maliay jumped in.

" _You_ know?" she said, astonished. " _You_ know my secret?"

"Of course I know!" said Sian indignantly. "My mother helped me figure it out!"

"Would either of you mind telling me what's going on?" I shouted, before either of them could say another word.

Sian took a deep breath and then said to Maliay, "Tell her, Maliay. Tell her who you really are …"

"Certainly," said Maliay softly, looking back at me. "You see, Kiara Pride-Lander, Zira is my past, present and future …"

As she pulled my wand back out of her robes, Sian said to me, "This is going to shock you, kid." We looked back at Maliay who was writing two shimmering words with my wand:

DIZRA MALIAY

Then she waved my wand once, and the letters of Maliay's name re-arranged themselves:

I AM LADY ZIRA

"Knew it," Sian whispered, just loud enough for me to hear it.

"You see," Maliay whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Dragon Mort, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to keep my filthy Muggle mother's name for ever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Selena Snake-Eyes herself, through my father's side. I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me soon after I was born, just because she found out her husband was a wizard? No, Kiara. I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew witches and wizards would fear to speak, when I became the greatest Sorceress in the world!"

My brain seemed to have jammed. I stared numbly at Maliay, at the orphaned girl who had grown up to be my almost-murderer as well as my parents, and the murderer of so many others … At last I forced myself to speak.

"You're not," I said, my quiet voice full of hatred.

"Not what?" snapped Maliay.

"Not the greatest Sorceress in the world," I said, breathing fast. "Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest witch in the world is Susan Crighton. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare to try to take over Dragon Mort. Crighton saw right through you when you were at school and she still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days."

The smile had gone from Maliay's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.

"Crighton's been driven out of this castle by the mere _memory_ of me!" she hissed.

"She's not gone as you might think!" I retorted. I was speaking at random, wanting to scare Maliay, wishing rather than believing it to be true.

"You tell her, Kiara!" Sian yelled with pride, tapping my shoulder.

Maliay opened her mouth, but froze.

Music was coming from somewhere. Maliay whirled round to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was an eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly sound; it lifted the hair on my scalp and made my heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that I felt it vibrating inside my own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar. I looked at Sian as this happened, and saw that she was comforted by the sound, which comforted me, for seeing as Sian had spent so much time in her mother's office, she had come to know the music extremely well.

Anyhoo, a crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacocks and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping an old, battered chest.

" _Kenna!"_ Sian breathed, looking happily at the creature.

A second, later the bird was flying straight at me. It dropped the battered chest at my feet, then landed heavily on my shoulder. As it folded its great wings, I looked up and saw that it had a long, sharp golden beak and beady black eyes.

The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to my cheek, gazing steadily at Maliay.

"That's a phoenix …" said Maliay, staring shrewdly back at it.

" _Kenna!"_ I breathed, and I felt the bird's golden claws squeeze my shoulder gently.

"And _that_ –" said Maliay, now eyeing the battered chest that Wawes had dropped, "that's the old school Sorting Chest."

So it was. Beaten, scratched and with some of the gold scraped off of it, the Chest lay motionless at my feet.

Maliay began to laugh again. She laughed so hard that the dark Chamber rang with it, as though ten Maliays were laughing at once.

"So this is what Crighton sends her great defender! A songbird and an old chest! Do you feel brave, Kiara Pride-Lander? Do you feel safe now?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't see at that point what use Kenna or the Sorting Chest were as well as Sian, but I was no longer alone, and my courage had mounted since Sian had showed up, so I waited for Maliay to stop laughing.

"To business, Kiara," said Maliay, still smiling broadly. "Twice – in _your_ past – in _my_ future – we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. _How did you survive?_ Tell me everything. The longer you talk," she added softly, "the longer you stay alive."

I was thinking fast, weighing out my options. Maliay had the wand, whereas I had Sian in her Animal Spirit, Kenna and the Sorting Chest, none of which would be much good in a duel. It looked bad, all right. But the longer Maliay stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Kestrel … and in the meantime, I noticed suddenly that Maliay's outline was becoming clearer, more solid. If it had to be a fight between me and Maliay, better sooner than later. Besides this, Sian was looking at me with desperation for her sister's sake, so I decided to talk.

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," I said abruptly. "I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't _kill_ me. It was because my father protected me. He put a protection in me when I was born so I didn't end up with the same fate as my brother. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul!"

Maliay's face contorted. Then she forced it into an awful smile.

"So. Your father protected you. Yes, that's a powerful counter-charm. I can see now – there's nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. Because there are strange likenesses between us, Kiara Pride-Lander. Even you must have noticed. Both raised by Muggles (well, me _entirely_ by Muggles). Probably the only two Parshydamouths since the great Snake-Eyes herself. We even look something alike … But after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."

I stood, tense, waiting for Maliay to raise my wand. But Maliay's smile was widening again.

"Now, Kiara, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the power of Lady Zira, heir of Selena Snake-Eyes, against the famous Kiara Pride-Lander, and the best weapons Crighton can give her."

She cast an amused eye over Sian, Kenna and the Sorting Chest, and then walked away. Fear was spreading through my numb legs as I watched Maliay stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Snake-Eyes, high above her in the half-darkness. Maliay opened her mouth wide and hissed – but I understood every word she spoke.

" _Speak to me, Snake-Eyes, greatest of the Dragon Mort Four."_

I wheeled around to look up at the statue, with Wawes swaying on my shoulder.

Snake-Eyes' gigantic stone face was moving. Horror-struck, I saw her mouth opening wider and wider, to make a huge black hole.

And something was stirring up inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.

"Kiara?" Sian said suddenly in a scared voice. I looked at her; her eyes were popping and she looked scared, and in remembered that she had seen the monster.

"Yeah?"

"Any time now, you should run."

"But –"

"No, no, don't think, just run," she said quickly.

Instead of doing as Sian said, I backed away until I hit the Chamber wall, and as I shut my eyes tight I felt Wawes' wing sweep my cheek as she took flight. I wanted to shout, "Don't leave me!" but what choice did a phoenix have against a large, almost-full reptilian monster?

Something huge hit the floor of the stone Chamber, and I felt the ground shudder. I knew what was happening for I could sense, could almost see the giant Lizsnabadra uncoiling itself from Snake-Eyes' mouth. Then I heard Maliay's hissing voice: _"Kill her!"_

"Run, Kiara!" Sian screamed at me.

"But, Sian –"

"Kiara, remember what my father told you last summer when you're in a dangerous situation and you don't know what to do," she said, and my mind went back, and at last Mr Dawson's words reverberated in my head: _"If you are ever in a crisis and you don't know what to do, you must listen to what Sian says and to the orders that she gives, because to not listen to her at these times would be a very unwise and rather foolish thing to do."_ But the thing was I couldn't run even if I wanted to, for I was scared right down to my very bones.

Anyhoo, during all this, the Lizsnabadra was moving towards me. I could hear its heavy body clawing ponderously across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, I began to run blindly sideways, my hands outstretched, feeling my way. Maliay was laughing …

I tripped. I fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood. The Lizsnabadra was barely feet from me, for I could hear it coming.

Then I heard a rushing noise behind me and could see bursts of light, like lasers hitting the monster, who roared and hissed and tried to hit whoever was attacking it back. Then there was a loud, explosive spitting sound right behind me and then something heavy hit me so hard that I was smashed against the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through my body, I heard more hissing and spitting and saw more flashing laser light.

I couldn't help it. I opened my eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on.

The enormous Lizsnabadra, bright, poisonous green, with claws and its baby button-eyed head, thick as an oak trunk, had raised high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As I trembled, ready to close my eyes if it turned, I saw what had distracted the Lizsnabadra.

You see, Sian was flying around the Lizsnabadra's head, using some of her more advanced powers to distract the monster from me and seeing as she was an Animal Spirit, she was free from harm from the teeth.

"That's it, look at the girl flying round your head!" she yelled, as she spun round and attacked every inch of it she could get at. It turns out that Sian, who saw that I wasn't going to run anywhere anytime soon, decided to help me out by distracting the monster long enough so that I could try to get away. But things started to go down for Sian, for as soon as she narrowly escaped a blast of fire from the Lizsnabadra, she started to loose balance, and a few minutes later, the monster hit her with a pretty hard lash from its tail, and sent her flying into a pillar.

" _Sian!"_ I cried, as she hit a pillar with an almighty crash, and slowly slid down the wall. She then turned over, sat up and slowly rubbed her head, saying dizzily, "Still … here. Just about, but still here." As she recovered, she gasped and turned her head to where the monster was. I looked, too, and saw that it had turned its head in my direction, but then Wawes swooped in to my rescue.

Wawes was soaring around its head, and the Lizsnabadra was snapping furiously at her with fangs as long and thin as sabres, as well as trying to fry her.

Kenna dived. Her long golden beak and talons sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The Lizsnabadra's tail thrashed, narrowly missing me, and before I could shut my eyes, it turned, I looked straight into its face, and saw that its teeth as well as its great, bulbous, black buttoned-eyes, had been punctured by the phoenix; blood was streaming to the floor and the Lizsnabadra was spitting in agony. Wawes struck along the bottom set of gums with her talons, and the bottom set of teeth went flying everywhere.

" _No!"_ I heard Maliay screaming. _"Leave the bird! Leave the bird! The girl is behind you! You can smell her! Kill her!"_

The blinded and half-toothless Lizsnabadra swayed, confused, still deadly. Kenna was circling its head, piping her eerie song, jabbing here and there at the Lizsnabadra's scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes and top gums.

"Yay, Kenna!" Sian cheered, now back on her feet.

"Help me, help me," I muttered wildly, "someone, anyone!"

The Lizsnabadra's tail whipped across the floor again. I ducked as I felt something heavy land at my feet.

The Lizsnabadra had swept the Sorting Chest at me. I seized it and dragged it to my right side. It was all I had left, my only chance. I rubbed at the four different sections until I saw the Lion-Head one. I threw myself right on the floor as I touched the Lion-Head and saw it glow a bright scarlet.

" _Help me … help me …"_ I thought desperately, still touching the Lion-Head and looking at it. _"Please, help me!"_

There was no answering voice, and no Lion-Head came rising out of it. Instead, the Lion-Head section opened and out flew the hilt of a sword. I stood up and grabbed it. As I touched the hilt, the rest of the silver sword magically appeared, its handle glittering, with rubies the size of eggs.

I looked at Sian, who was looking back at me with wondrous surprise at first, but then that look turned into one of solid determination.

"Do it!" she said, making a fist and holding it high. I nodded back at her and almost ran to the Lizsnabadra, but Maliay's voice startled me for a moment.

" _Kill the girl! Leave the bird! The girl is behind you! Sniff – smell her!"_

I was ready. The Lizsnabadra's head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted its face to me. I could see the vast, bloody eye sockets and the half-toothless mouth was wide, wide enough to swallow me whole, lined with its bottom row of fangs as long as my sword, thin, glittering, venomous. And the great thing was that because the top half had been taken out, the "killing people instantaneously by looking at the teeth" thing didn't work after you took out the top part.

Anyhoo, it lunged blindly, and I dodged, and it hit the Chamber wall. It lunged again, and its forked tongue lashed my side. I raised the sword in both my hands.

The Lizsnabadra lunged again, and it jabbed me with one of its venomous teeth. I heard Sian cry out _"Kiara!"_ in anguish as I felt a searing pain just above my elbow as the Lizsnabadra drew back. One long, poisonous fang was stuck in my arm that was spreading poison through my body and wrenched it out of my arm. But I knew it was getting to be too late, for white hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound. But I wasn't going to give up that easily, even though as I dropped the fang and saw my own blood seeping my robes, my vision went foggy. I heard a soft whooshing noise as I kind of saw the Lizsnabadra lunge again, and then I heard another scraping and another spitting. I looked up and saw the bottom line of teeth go flying everywhere.

Collecting what remaining strength I had left, I moved towards the Lizsnabadra and yelled, as its head came towards me, "Off with your head!" and swiped its head off with the sword. The head went flying and landed somewhere near the feet of Snake-Eyes. I knew this because I saw the figure of Sian move out of the way just in time.

I slid down the wall just as a patch of scarlet swam past and I heard a soft clatter of claws beside me.

"Wawes," I said thickly. "You were brilliant, Kenna … as were you, Sian …" I said, turning my head to a blurred figure in the distance, from whom I could hear choked sobs as the bird lay its beautiful head on the spot where the Lizsnabadra's fang had pierced me.

I could hear soft footsteps and then a dark shadow moved in front of me.

"You're dead, Kiara Pride-Lander," said Maliay's voice above me. "Dead. Even Crighton's bird knows it. Do you see what she's doing, Pride-Lander? She's _crying_."

I blinked as I heard Sian's sobs stop and heard her gasp instead. Wawes' head was swimming in and out of focus. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers.

"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Kiara Pride-Lander," said Maliay's distant voice. "Alone in the Chamber of Mysteries, forsaken by her friends, defeated at last by the Scarlet Lady she so unwisely challenged. Your _dear_ father bought you twelve years of borrowed time … but Lady Zira got to you in the end, as you knew she must."

If this is dying, I thought, it's not so bad. Even the pain was leaving me …

As this was passing through my head, I could hear other gentle footsteps approach me, along with a laugh that wasn't Maliay's, for this was sweet and more human, and I guessed it was Sian's. And I was right.

"What's so amusing to you?" Maliay asked her, with a sort of puzzlement in her voice.

"Oh, I'll tell you what's amusing to me, Maliay," said Sian, who I could tell was smug at that moment. "Don't you know what type of bird this _is_?" and she laughed again.

As this was going on, I was wondering was this dying at all. Instead of going black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus. I gave my head a little shake and there was Wawes, still resting on my arm. A pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound – except that there _was_ no wound. Maliay gasped, finally realising what type of bird Kenna was and what Sian was going on about.

"Get away, bird," said Maliay's voice suddenly. "Get away from her! I said, _get away_!"

I raised my head. Maliay was pointing my wand at Kenna; there was a bang like a gun and Kenna took flight again in a whirl of gold and scarlet.

"Phoenix tears …" said Maliay quietly, staring at my arm. "Of course … healing powers … I forgot …"

She looked into my face. "But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Kiara Pride-Lander … you and me …"

She raised my wand.

At that moment a voice yelled, "Hey, Maliay!" Maliay and I turned our heads as a blur of scarlet flew through the air and Maliay caught her own diary in front of her face. As soon as she had caught it, Sian – for indeed it was Sian – threw one of the fangs that had flown out of the Lizsnabadra's mouth right in to the middle of the diary.

Maliay looked down at the diary for a moment in surprise. Then she uttered a long, dreadful, piercing scream. As Sian put a hand on my shoulder, we saw ink spurting out of the diary in torrents, streaming over my hands and flooding the floor. Maliay was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then …

She had gone. My wand fell to the floor along with the diary with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the silent _drip drip_ of ink still oozing from the diary. The Lizsnabadra venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it.

Sian and I looked at each other in silence for a few moments, before we both started to laugh and Sian said, putting her head on my shoulder, "We did it!" and we laughed some more, before we were breathing sighs of relief.

"Nice thinking with the fang and the diary, Sian!" I said, amazed at her fast-thinking.

"That's why I always find fast-thinking and -acting useful in situations like these, kid!" she said knowledgably. "You just gotta look for inspiration around you, no matter how big or small that inspiration is."

I nodded at her and then Sian helped me up. I was shaking slightly, but otherwise all right. My head had stopped spinning and slowly I went to pick up my wand and the Sorting Chest, placed it down, picked up the sword and placed it in the Lion-Head section of the Chest.

There came a faint moan from the end of the Chamber. Kestrel was stirring. As Sian and I hurried towards her, she sat up. Her bemused eyes travelled from the huge form of the Lizsnabadra's body, over me in my blood-soaked robes then to the diary in my hand. Her eyes then wandered over to the head of the Lizsnabadra and then to Sian. She looked taken aback as she looked at Sian. Sian was smiling gently and reassuringly at her sister, holding out her hand. Kestrel shakily got up and with a little reassurance from Sian, took her sister's hand. She was surprised she could feel it, then rushed into her sister's arms and sobbed, _"Oh, Sian! I'm so sorry!"_

"It's all right, Kestrel, it's all right," Sian told her soothingly, stroking Kestrel's hair. She leaned back her head and looked from Sian to me.

"Kiara, Sian – oh, Kiara – I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I _c-couldn't_ say it in front of Beth. It was _me_ , Kiara – but I – I s-swear I d-didn't mean to – M-Maliay made me, she t-took over me – and – how did you kill that – that thing? W-where's Maliay? The last thing I remember is her coming out of the diary –"

"It's all right, Kestrel," said Sian, as I showed her the diary with the fang hole, "Maliay's finished. Look, her and the Lizsnabadra. C'mon, Kestrel, let's get out of here –"

"Just one moment, Kiara," Sian interrupted me. Kestrel and I both looked at her, for the spiritual energy that surrounded her was starting to fade.

"Sian, what's –?"

"It's all right, you two," Sian said gently. "I'm just about to return to my body is all, so I'll make this as short as I can." She looked at me, smiled and said, "Kiara, I would like to thank you on behalf of my family. I'm sure my parents and other siblings would like to, as well, but I'd like to be the first to give you my gratitude for not only saving Kestrel's life as well as this school's, but also for bringing Ma back, too."

"M-Ma's back?" Kestrel snuffled.

"That's right, dear one," Sian said kindly to her. "I felt her presence re-enter this school the moment Kenna came down here. I came here of my own accord. Anyhoo, Kestrel dear, if you're worried about being expelled or any punishment given, you have nothing to fear, for none will be given to you."

"Really?" Kestrel's expression brightened slightly.

"Yes, my sister, really," Sian smiled at Kestrel. "After all, Ma told me personally that she would rather die than expel any of her children – including you, Kiara." I looked at her in shock, but she smiled at me with kindness and truth, and I looked at her in gratitude. The two sisters hugged, and then Sian let go of Kestrel and hugged me. We saw her spirit fading more as she said, "The Mandrake Draught is restoring me back to the world of the living. I'll see you on the other side!" Sian then breathed a deep sigh as she lifted her head and the spiritual energy surrounded her and then she zoomed out of the Chamber. The light glowed for a second and then it was gone.

"Wow, your sister is one heck of a woman, Kestrel," I said to her, looking where Sian had gone.

"Yeah, she really is," said Kestrel in admiration. We smiled at each other, then I grabbed Kestrel's hand and we both made our way out of the Chamber.

Kenna was waiting for us, hovering in the Chamber entrance. I urged Kestrel forward; we stepped over the motionless coils of the dead Lizsnabadra, through the echoing gloom and back into the tunnel. I heard the stone doors close behind us with a soft hiss.

After a few minutes' progress up the dark tunnel, a distant sound of slowly shifting rock reached our ears.

"Chris! Chrissie!" I yelled. "Kestrel's OK! I've got her!"

I heard Chris and Chrissie both give a strangled cheer and we turned the next head to see their eager faces staring through the sizable gap they had managed to make in the rock fall.

" _Kestrel!"_ Chrissie thrust an arm through a gap in the rock to pull her through first. "You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened?"

Chris and Chrissie tried to hug her but Kestrel pushed them away, sobbing anew.

"But, you're OK, Kestrel," said Chris, beaming at her after he had pulled me through. "It's over now, it's – where did that bird come from?"

Kenna had swooped through the gap after Kestrel.

"She's your mother's," I told them.

"And how come you've got a _chest_?" said Chrissie, gazing at the small trunk under my arm.

"I'm guessing there's something interesting _inside_ the chest. Am I right, Kiara?" Chris said. I chuckled and just nodded my head. Chris and Chrissie looked at each other excitedly, wondering what on earth could be in it; but I told them that they would have to wait until we got to Crighton for me to reveal that one.

"How do you know Ma's back?" Chrissie asked me, incredulously.

"I'll explain when we get out of here," I said, with a sideways glance at Kestrel.

"But –"

"Later," I said quickly. I didn't think it was a good idea to tell Chris and Chrissie then who'd been opening the Chamber, not in front of Kestrel, anyway. "Where's Gold?"

"Back there," said Chris, grinning and jerking his head up the tunnel towards the pipe. "She's in a bad way. Come and see."

Led by Kenna, whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, we walked all the way back to the mouth of the pipe. Giselle Gold was sitting there, humming placidly to herself.

"Her memory's gone," said Chrissie. "The Memory Charm backfired. Hit her instead of us. Hasn't got a clue who she is, or where she is or who we are. I told her to come and wait here. She's a danger to herself."

Gold peered good-naturedly at us all.

"Hello," she said. "Odd sort of place this, isn't it? Do you live here?"

"No," said Chrissie, raising her eyebrows at me.

"Have you thought about how we're going to get back up this?" said Chris, looking up and down the long, dark pipe, then to me and Chrissie.

Chrissie shook her head, but Kenna the phoenix had swooped past me and was now fluttering in front of me, her beady eyes bright in the dark. She was waving her long golden tail feathers. I looked uncertainly at her.

"She looks like she wants you to grab hold …" said Chris, looking perplexed. "But you're much too heavy for her to pull up there."

"Kenna," I said, "isn't an ordinary bird." I turned quickly to the others. "We've got to hold on to each other. Chrissie, take Chris' hand. Kestrel, grab his other. Professor Gold –"

"She means you," Chrissie said sharply to Gold.

"You hold Kestrel's other hand."

Chrissie held the other end of the Chest as I took hold of Wawes' strangely hot tail feathers.

An extraordinary lightness seemed to spread through my whole body, and the next second, with a whoosh, we were flying upwards through the pipe. I could hear Gold dangling below me, saying, "Amazing! Amazing! This is just like _magic_!", and then I heard Chrissie, who seemed to turn her head to Gold, say to her, "That's because it _is_ magic!" The chill air was whipping through my hair, and before I'd stopped enjoying the ride, it was over – all five of us were hitting the wet floor of Old Moany's bathroom and as Gold straightened her hat, the circle of sinks were sliding slowly back into place.

Moany goggled at us.

"You're alive," he said blankly to me.

"There's no need to sound disappointed," I said grimly.

"Oh, well … I'd just been thinking. If you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," said Moany, blushing silver.

"Urgh!" said Chrissie as we left the bathroom for the dark, deserted corridor outside. "Kiara! I think Moany's got _fond_ of you! You've got competition, Chris!"

Chris glared at Chrissie as tears continued to slide silently down Kestrel's face.

"Where now?" said Chris, with an anxious look at Kestrel. I pointed.

Kenna was leading the way, glowing gold along the dark corridor. We strode after her and moments later, we found ourselves outside Professor Darbus' office.

I knocked and pushed the door open.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

 **Dokey's Reward**

 **KIARA**

For a moment, there was silence as Chris, Chrissie, Kestrel Gold and I stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in my case) blood. Then there was a scream.

" _Kestrel!"_

It was Crighton, who had been sitting by the fire, crying. Her husband had been standing behind her, quiet and pale-faced. Crighton jumped to her feet when she saw Kestrel, and she and Mr Dawson flung themselves on their daughter.

I was being held tightly by my grandmother Sarabi, who had been crying, too. She leaned back and said to me, through a choked voice and yet with a slight smile, "Why do you never do as you are told?"

I smiled back at her, shrugged and said, "I'm sorry, Grandmother." She chuckled and held me tight again. As she let go of me, I looked past her and saw that Professor Crighton had gone back over to the mantelpiece and was beaming at me, next to Professor Darbus, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Kenna went whooshing past my ear and settled on Crighton's shoulder, just as Chris, Chrissie and I found ourselves in Mr Dawson's tight embrace.

"You saved her! You saved her! _How did you do it?"_

"I think we'd all like to know that," said Professor Darbus weakly.

Mr Dawson let go of me, and I hesitated for a moment, then I asked Chrissie to let go of the other end of the Chest, tucked it under my arm and walked over to the desk and laid upon it the Sorting Chest and I took out of it the ruby-encrusted sword out of the Lion-Head section and I also placed on the desk what remained of Maliay's diary.

Then I started to tell them everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour I spoke into the rapt silence: I told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Sian had finally realised that I was hearing a Lizsnabadra in the pipes; how Chris, Chrissie and I had followed the spiders into the Forest, that Arratota had told us where the last victim of the Lizsnabadra had died; how I had guessed that Old Moany had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Mysteries might be in his bathroom …

"Very well," Professor Darbus prompted me as I paused, "so you found out where the entrance was – breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add – but how on _earth_ did you get out of there alive, Pride-Lander?"

My voice was growing hoarse with all the talking I was doing, but I had to tell them, so I told them about Kenna's timely arrival, as well as Sian's in her Animal Spirit form, which I mentioned was a lioness and about the Lion-Head section of the Sorting Chest giving me the sword. But then I faltered. I had so far avoided mentioning Maliay's diary – or Kestrel. She was standing against Mr Dawson's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. Despite what Sian had said about her mother not wanting to expel any of her children, what if she did expel Kestrel? I thought in panic. Maliay's diary didn't work any more … How could we prove it had been she who'd made Kestrel do it all?

Instinctively, I looked up at Crighton, who smiled faintly.

"What interests me most," said Crighton gently, "is how Lady Zira managed to enchant Kestrel, when my sources tell me she is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."

Relief – warm, sweeping, glorious relief – swept over me; and by the looks of it, my grandmother Sarabi was looking relieved, too. She gave me another tight hug, said, "Oh, thank God for that!" and then let go of me.

"W-what's that, Susan?" said Mr Dawson in a stunned voice as this was going on. " _She You Know?_ Enchant Kestrel? But Kestrel's not … Kestrel hasn't been … has she?"

"It was the diary," I said quickly, walking over to the desk, picking it up and showing it to Crighton. "Maliay wrote in it when she was sixteen."

Crighton took the diary from me and peered keenly down her short, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.

"Brilliant," she said softly. "Of course, she was probably the most brilliant student Dragon Mort had ever seen." She turned around to Mr Dawson, Kestrel, Chris, Chrissie and my grandmother Sarabi, who were standing there, stunned.

"Very few people know that Lady Zira was once called Dizra Maliay. I taught her myself, fifty years ago, at Dragon Mort. She disappeared after leaving the school … travelled far and wide … sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous magical transformations, that when she resurfaced as Lady Zira, she was barely recognisable. Hardly anyone connected Lady Zira with the clever, beautiful girl who was once Head Girl here."

"But Kestrel," said Mr Dawson, "what's our Kestrel got to do with – with – _her_?"

"Her d-diary!" Kestrel sobbed. "I've been writing in it, and she's been w-writing back all year –"

" _Kestrel!"_ said Mr Dawson, flabbergasted. "Haven't your mother and I – and Sian, above all other people – taught you _anything_? What have we always told you: never trust anything that can think for itself _if you can't see where it keeps its brain_? Why didn't you show this to me, or your mother, or Sian? A suspicious object like that; it was _clearly_ full of Dark Magic!"

"I d-don't know," sobbed Kestrel. "I found it inside one of the books that you gave me, Dad. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten it …"

"Kestrel, sweetheart, come here," said Crighton, with her arms held wide. Kestrel went to her mother and they held each other for a few moments. "You should go to the hospital wing," Crighton said to her as they let go. "This has been a terrible ordeal for you. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser witches and wizards than you have been hoodwinked by Lady Zira." She strode over to the door and opened it. Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate; I find that always cheers me up," she added, twinkling down kindly at her. "You will find that Matron is still awake. She's giving out Mandrake juice – I daresay the Lizsnabadra's victims will be waking up any moment now."

"So, Sian's OK then, Ma?" said Chrissie brightly.

"There's been no lasting harm done," said Crighton.

"I'll take Kestrel down," said Mr Dawson, as Kestrel walked over to him. "Besides, I want to see that eldest daughter of mine."

"Yes, I think I'll go with you," said Grandmother Sarabi, giving me a tight squeeze and a smile full of gratitude and pride. "For I want to thank her myself, for I like your eldest daughter, Matt, I really do."

"Oh, I wouldn't expect you not to like her, Sarabi," Mr Dawson said cheerfully. "I could tell you some things about her, I really could …" and he led Kestrel out, still looking a little bit shaken up. Grandmother Sarabi was about to follow, when Crighton pulled her back.

"If he starts going on a bit too much about Sian," she sighed, "try to shut him up, or you'll never hear the end of it. Trust me." They chuckled, then Grandmother Sarabi smiled at me and left, too.

"You know, Deidre," Professor Crighton said thoughtfully to Professor Darbus, "I think all this merits a good _feast_. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"

"Right," said Professor Darbus crisply, also moving to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with Dawson, Pride-Lander and Rickers, shall I?"

"Certainly," said Crighton.

She left, and Chris, Chrissie and I gazed uncertainly at Crighton. What exactly, I wondered, had Professor Darbus meant, _deal with us_? Surely – _surely_ – we weren't about to be punished for doing something good … were we?

"Now, Chrissie, Kiara, I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules," said Crighton. Chrissie opened her mouth in horror.

"Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our own words," Crighton went on, smiling. "You three will receive Special Awards for Services to the School, and – let me see – yes, I think two hundred points to you three for Lion-Heart."

Chrissie went as brightly pink as Gold's Valentine flowers and closed her mouth again.

"But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about her part in this dangerous adventure," Crighton added. "Why so modest, Giselle?"

I gave a start. I had completely forgotten about Gold. I turned and saw that Gold was standing in a corner of the room, still wearing her vague smile. When Crighton addressed her, Gold looked over her shoulder to see who she was talking to.

"Ma," said Chris quickly, "there was an accident down in the Chamber of Mysteries. Professor Gold –"

"Am I a Professor?" said Gold in mild surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?"

"She tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired," Chrissie explained quietly to Crighton.

"Dear me," said Crighton, shaking her head, but the edges of her mouth were quivering. "Impaled upon your own sword, Giselle?"

"Sword?" said Gold dimly. "Haven't got a sword. That girl has, though." She pointed at me. "She'll lend you one."

"Chris, Chrissie, would you mind taking Professor Gold up to the hospital wing, too?" Crighton said to them. "I'd like a few more words with Kiara …"

Gold ambled out. Chris and Chrissie cast a curious look back at Crighton and me as they closed the door.

Crighton crossed to one of the chairs by the fire.

"Sit down, Kiara," she said, and I sat, feeling uncomfortably nervous.

"First of all, Kiara, I want to thank you," said Crighton, eyes twinkling again. "You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Kenna to you."

She stroked the phoenix, which had fluttered down onto her knee. I grinned awkwardly as Crighton watched me.

"But, ma'am," I said quickly, "how did Sian come to me, then? I mean, was that something to do with you?"

"No, it wasn't to do with me, Kiara. Sian came to you of her own accord. I believe she knew that you were going to be in some sort of trouble, and therefore, she wanted to do anything she could in her power to help you out a bit. I told you that you two would do each other good, didn't I?" Crighton smiled at me.

"And so you met Dizra Maliay," Crighton went on thoughtfully. "I imagine she was _most_ interested in you …"

Suddenly, something that had been nagging me in the back of my mind came tumbling out of my mouth.

"Professor Crighton … Maliay said I'm like her. Strange likenesses, she said …"

" _Did_ she, now?" said Crighton, looking thoughtfully under her silvery-brown eyebrows at me. "And what do you think, Kiara?"

"I don't think I'm like her!" I said, more loudly than I had intended. "I mean, I'm in _Lion-Heart_ , I'm …"

But I fell silent as a lurking doubt resurfaced in my head.

"Professor," I started again after a moment, "the Snake-Head told me I'd – I'd have done well in Snake-Eyes. Everyone thought I was Snake-Eyes' heir for a while … because I can speak Parshydamouth …"

"You can speak Parshydamouth, Kiara," said Crighton calmly, "because Lady Zira – who is the last remaining ancestor of Selena Snake-Eyes – can speak Parshydamouth. Unless, I'm much mistaken, she transferred some of her own powers to you the day she gave you that scar. Not something she intended to do, for sure …"

"Zira put a bit of herself in me?" I said, thunderstruck.

"It certainly seems so."

"So I _should_ be in Snake-Eyes," I said, looking desperately into Crighton's face. "The Snake-Head said that it could see Snake-Eyes' power in me, and it –"

"Put you in Lion-Heart," said Crighton calmly. "Listen to me, Kiara. You happen to have many qualities Selena Snake-Eyes prized in her hard-picked students. Her very own gift, Parshydamouth … resourcefulness … determination … a certain disregard for the rules," she added, the edges of her mouth quivering again. "Yet the Lion-Head put you in Lion-Heart. You know why that was. Think."

"It only put me in Lion-Heart," I said in a defeated voice, "because in my head I asked not to go in Snake-Eyes …"

" _Exactly,"_ said Crighton, beaming once more. "This makes you very different from Lady Zira. It is our choices, Kiara, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." I sat motionless in my chair, stunned. "If you want proof, Kiara, that you belong in Lion-Heart, I suggest you look more closely at _this_."

Crighton reached across to Professor Darbus' desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword and handed it to me. Dully, I turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then I saw the name engraved just below the hilt.

 _Louisa Lion-Heart._

"Only a true Lion-Heart could have pulled that out of the Chest, Kiara," said Crighton simply.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then Crighton pulled open one of the drawers from Professor Darbus' desk, and took out a quill and a bottle of ink.

"What _you_ need, Kiara is some food and sleep. I suggest you get to the feast while I write to Azkaban – we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the _Daily Squabbler_ , too," she added thoughtfully. "We'll need a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?"

I got up and crossed to the door. I had just reached the handle when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.

Narissa Malty stood there, fury in her face. And cowering under her arm, heavily wrapped in bandages, was _Dokey_.

"Good evening, Narissa," said Crighton pleasantly.

Mrs Malty almost knocked me over as she swept into the room. Dokey went scurrying into the room, crouching at the hem of her cloak, a look of absolute terror on her face.

"So!" said Narissa Malty, her cold eyes fixed on Crighton. "You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Dragon Mort."

"Well, you see, Narissa," said Crighton, smiling serenely, "the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They heard that one of my daughters had been killed and they wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best woman for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too. Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

Mrs Malty went paler than usual, but her eyes were still slits of fury.

"So – have you stopped the attacks yet?" she sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have," said Crighton, with a smile.

" _Well?"_ said Mrs Malty sharply. "Who is it?"

"The same person as last time, Narissa," said Crighton. "But this time, Lady Zira was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."

She held up the small red book with the large hole through the centre, watching Mrs Malty closely. I, on the other hand, was watching Dokey.

The elf was doing something very odd. Her great eyes were fixed meaningfully on me; she kept pointing at the diary, then at Mrs Malty, and then hitting herself hard on the head with her fist.

"I see …" said Mrs Malty slowly to Crighton.

"A clever plan," said Crighton in a level voice, still staring Mrs Malty straight in the eye. "Because if Kiara here –" Mrs Malty gave me a swift, sharp look, "and her friends, my daughter Chrissie and adopted son, Chris hadn't discovered this book, why – my daughter Kestrel might have taken the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will …"

Mrs Malty said nothing. Her face was suddenly mash-like.

"And imagine," Crighton went on, "what might happen then … We Dawsons (for even though I keep my old name, Crighton, I did marry a Dawson, after all) are one our most prominent Pure-blood families. Imagine the effort on my husband, Matthew Dawson, and his Muggle Protection Policies, if one of our own children was discovered attacking and killing Bright-brains and Muggle-borns, especially a family member. Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Maliay's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise."

Mrs Malty forced herself to speak.

"Very fortunate," she said stiffly.

And still behind her back, Dokey was pointing first to the diary, then to Narissa Malty and then punching herself in the head.

And then I suddenly understood. I nodded at Dokey, and Dokey backed into a corner, now twisting her ears in punishment.

"Don't you want to know how Kestrel got hold of the diary, Mrs Malty?" I said.

Mrs Malty rounded on me.

"How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" she said.

"That's my daughter you're talking about, Narissa," said Crighton sharply, giving Mrs Malty a dangerous look that I had seen Sian give quite a few times before. Mrs Malty gulped at Crighton and went paler still. Crighton then looked kindly at me. "Go on, Kiara. Tell us how you _think_ Kestrel got the diary."

"Because you gave it to her," I said to Mrs Malty. "You picked up her brand new Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?"

I saw Mrs Malty's white hands clench and unclench.

"Prove it," she hissed.

"Oh, no one will be able to do that," said Crighton, smiling at me. "Not now Maliay has vanished from the book. On the other hand, Narissa, I would advise you not to go giving any more of Lady Zira's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Matthew Dawson and myself will make sure they are traced back to you. Furthermore," Crighton continued, and even though she didn't raise her voice, we could feel a power animate from her, which sent a chill right through us, "if you _dare_ to harm any of my family again, myself, my husband and indeed my eldest daughter will deal with you personally. Do I make myself clear, Narissa?"

Malty gulped quite a few times before she replied. "C-certainly, Crighton."

"Good," said Crighton lightly, and the chill suddenly stopped as though a fire had been instantaneously re-lit. "Then we have no more to discuss."

Narissa Malty stood for a moment, and I distinctly saw her right hand twitch as though she was going to reach for her wand. Instead, she turned to her house-elf.

"We're going, Dokey!"

She wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to her, she kicked her right through it. We could hear Dokey squealing with pain all the way along the corridor. I stood for a moment, thinking hard. Then an idea struck me like lightning.

"Professor Crighton," I said hurriedly, "can I give that back to Mrs Malty, please?"

"Certainly, Kiara," said Crighton calmly. "But hurry. The feast, remember."

I grabbed the diary and dashed out of the office. I could hear Dokey's squeals of pain receding around the corner. Quickly, wondering if my plan could possibly work, I took off one of my shoes, pulled off my slimy, filthy right sock and stuffed it into the diary. Then I ran down the corridor.

I caught up with them at the top of the stairs.

"Mrs Malty," I gasped, skidding to a halt, "I've got something for you."

And I forced the diary, with the smelly sock in it, into Narissa Malty's hand.

"What the –?"

Mrs Malty ripped the sock off the diary, threw it aside and then looked furiously from the ruined book back to me.

"You'll meet a sticky end soon, Kiara Pride-Lander," she said softly. "You're parents are meddlesome fools, too."

She turned to go.

"Come, Dokey. I said, _come_!"

But Dokey didn't move. She was holding my disgusting, slimy sock, and was looking at it as though it was a priceless treasure.

"Mistress has given Dokey a sock," said the elf in wonderment. "Mistress gave it to Dokey."

"What's that?" spat Mrs Malty. "What did you say?"

"Dokey has got a sock," said the elf in disbelief. "Mistress threw it, and Dokey caught it, and Dokey – Dokey is _free_."

Narissa Malty stood frozen, staring at the elf. Then she lunged at me.

"You lost me my servant, girl!"

But Dokey shouted, "You shall not harm Kiara Pride-Lander!"

There was a loud _bang_ , and Mrs Malty was thrown backwards. She crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. She got up, her face livid and pulled out her wand, but Dokey raised a long, threatening finger.

"You shall go now," she said fiercely, pointing down at Mrs Malty. "You shall not touch Kiara Pride-Lander. You shall go now.

Narissa Malty had no choice. With a last incensed stare at the pair of us, she swung her cloak around her and hurried out of sight.

"Kiara Pride-Lander freed Dokey!" said the elf shrilly, gazing up at me, moonlight from the nearest window reflected in her orb-like eyes. "Kiara Pride-Lander set Dokey free!"

"Least I could do, Dokey," I said, grinning. "Just promise never try to save my life again."

The elf's ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide toothy smile.

"I've just got one question, Dokey," I said, as Dokey pulled on my sock with shaking hands. "You told me all this had nothing to do with She Who Must Not Be Named, remember? Well –"

"It was a _clue_ , Miss," said Dokey, as though this was obvious. "Dokey was giving you a clue. The Scarlet Lady, before she created her name, could be _freely named_ , you see?"

"Right," I said weakly. "Well, I'd better go. There's a feast and Sian should be awake by now. But before we part," I said, kneeling down in front of her, "I don't know what the future holds for you, but I hope that it will be happier than the life you lead beforehand, and I wish you all happiness, Dokey. I really do. And no matter what happens, I hope that we will meet again someday."

Dokey threw her arms around me and hugged me, and I hugged her back.

"Kiara Pride-Lander is far greater than Dokey knew!" she sobbed. "Farewell, Kiara Pride-Lander!"

"Farewell, Dokey," I said, as with a final loud _crack_ , she disappeared.

I didn't see Dokey until about a year and a half, or maybe two years after this. She did live well after she was freed from the Malty's, but only for a few more years until, well, we'll get to that later. But I was happy that she was free and missed her so (and still do), even if she did go to extreme lengths to save my life.

0000

I had been to several Dragon Mort feasts, but never quite like that one. As far as I could remember, everybody was in their pyjamas and the celebrations lasted all night. I didn't know what the best bit was: Sian running up to Chris, Chrissie and I, screaming, "You solved it! You solved it!" or Justine hurrying over from the Badger-Stripes table to wring my hand and apologise endlessly for suspecting me, or Mina turning up at half-past three, cuffing Chris, Chrissie and I so hard on our shoulders that we were knocked into our plates of trifle, or mine, Chris and Chrissie's six hundred points, securing Lion-Heart the House Cup for the second year running, or Professor Darbus standing up to tell us all that the exams had been cancelled as a school treat ( _"Oh, no,"_ said Sian), or Crighton announcing that, _unfortunately_ , Professor Gold would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that she needed to go away and get her memory back. Quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheers that greeted this news.

"Shame," said Chrissie, helping herself to a jam doughnut. "She was starting to grow on me."

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!" Sian yelled, making Chrissie bang her head into her plate and splashing herself with jam and sprinkles from all the doughnuts that she had on her plate.

0000

The rest of the summer term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Dragon Mort was back to normal (well, for the time-being, at least) with only a few small differences: Defence Against the Dark Arts classes were cancelled ("I know it's important, but judging by Gold's standards of teaching, I can see why; and because of that, I really am not bothered at all that they _are_ cancelled," Sian told Chris, Chrissie and I) and Narissa Malty had been sacked as a school governor. Dani was no longer strutting around the school as though she owned the place. On the contrary, she looked resentful and sulky. On the positive side of things, though, Kestrel Dawson was back to herself again, and Beth was more happy than anyone – well, except perhaps Sian – that her twin sister was back to normal.

Too soon, though, it was time for the journey home on the Dragon Mort Submarines. Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Tanya and Geri Fang and I got in the Dawsons' Special Sub, and we had it all to ourselves. We made the most of our last few hours in which we were allowed to use magic before the holidays. We played Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Beth and Kestrel's, as well as Tanya and Geri's, Filibuster Fireworks, and practiced disarming each other by magic. I was getting very good at it.

We were almost at the Sub House in Devon, when I remembered something.

"Beth – Kestrel – what did you two see Perdy doing that she didn't want you to tell anyone about?"

"Oh, that," said Kestrel, and she and Beth giggled. "Well, Perdy's got a _boyfriend_."

Tanya dropped a stack of books on Geri's head.

" _What?"_

"It's that Raven-Wing Prefect, Percy Freshwater," said Beth. "That's who she was writing to all last summer, from what she told us. She's been meeting up with him all over the school in secret. Kestrel and I walked in on them, kissing in an empty classroom one day. She was so upset when he was – you know – attacked. Tan, Geri, you won't tease her, will you?" she added anxiously.

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Tanya, who was looked as though her birthday had come early.

"Definitely not," said Geri, sniggering.

The Dragon Mort Submarines slowed and finally stopped in the water.

"Your grandmothers will be proud of what you've done this year, Kiara," said Sian, as we collected our things. "You know that, don't you?"

I smiled at her as I said, "I sure do, S.D."

And we made our way back to our friends and relatives down below.

And that brings us to the end of my second year. My second instalment on the road to defeat Lady Zira is completed. I shall see you in my third year, but until then, I have just one word to say to you, and that word is …

 _Farewell!_

0000

 **So, that's the end of Book2. Book 3 will be coming soon, so keep your eyes peeled for that. I hope you have enjoyed this book, so please R &R. Thank you. See you soon.**


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